The Kiss
by Miss AbbyM
Summary: Enlightenment finally reaches a cold prince.  But will he welcome it?
1. Every Action

**The Kiss**

**Disclaimer: I do not own any DBZ or any characters remotely associated with it. I'd be stupid to even try.**

**Every Action Has an Equal and Opposite Reaction**

His kiss. She was electrified. Such soft, gentle lips feathered against hers, lightly but firm. He brushed them against her again, a bit more firm, and lingered there much longer than before, achingly slowly trailing his lips all along her mouth. She shivered and relished in the unbelievable sensations that ran up and down her body, rocking her soul to the very core. She tried to bring her hand up, wanting to caress his face, wanting to keep his lips touching hers…but he stopped her, and suddenly she didn't feel his lips anymore. Her eyes opened, only to see a pair of black holes staring back at her. Thinking the worst, she started to pull back, her face reddening from embarrassment, horror beginning to pervade her mind.

'Way to go, idiot. If you'd just sat back and enjoyed it, it wouldn't have ended', she chided herself. Averting her gaze, unable to face his soul-devouring gaze much longer, she self-consciously moved further away…but was met with his an iron resistance, as his grip still grasped her hand, the one she had wanted to use to increase the contact she'd had just moments before. She looked down and saw how small her hand was in his, marveling at the contrast of her pale, ivory complexion against his tanned, supremely strong hands. She wasn't surprised to find out that though tanned, his hands, his touch were not hard or calloused against her delicate skin, but was soft and smooth just like hers, though she knew his hands were infinitely more powerful than hers. And had been the instrument by which entire worlds fell by. Just a twinge from his wrist, a mere crick in his hand and her fingers would be introduced to the pain he'd inflicted on so many before. One of his pinky fingers held the power of 20 of those so-called "World's Strongest Man". How stupid for us humans to believe those brutes were strong.

No, this deceptively normal, athletic-looking only man held more physical power in his earlobe than all those fools combined. And the ultimate danger in that was that HE knew that as well.

She looked up at him again. Fear now evident in her eyes. She knew she looked at the hand holding hers too long, enjoyed those soft lips that often wore a scowl too long, and wouldn't you know, that scowl was back, but this time, it seemed to be turned down more than before.

'Shit. I'm dead'. She didn't mean for this to happen, didn't mean to purposely feel his touch. She knew of his avoidance of touching anything, let alone anyone. Her person especially. If it couldn't be helped, like an employee of hers or her mother grasping his arm (and subsequently groping him), he merely snarled and sent the employees running away in fear, almost peeing in their pants as they fled. Her mother, though, air-headedly either didn't notice it was directed at her or simply ignored the growl he gave her. He tolerated the woman's touch, barely, because if he didn't, the amazing food she often made for him in such phenomenal quantities would disappear. And being of royalty and extreme intelligence, he wasn't one to act like an impulsive fool. For every action, there's an equal and opposite reaction.

"For every action, there's an equal and opposite reaction." She definitely proved Newton's theory on that. She had found his door open as she alighted the stairs on her way to her own quarters at the other end of the hall from his. Since it was late, she hadn't wanted to disturb his 'royal highness', assuming he'd been sleeping since the fireworks that often exploded in the gravity compound were not present there as she'd passed by it to enter her home. But as she had reached the top of the stairs, she caught a sliver of pale light escaping from his room, and the door slightly groaned and creaked . 'Must remember to grease that in the morning', she absently thought as she headed into his quarters, wondering what she would find.

His room was well-kept, the large wardrobe dresser on one side bare, except for his ever-present training gloves sitting one top if it, his clothing for the next day also accompanying the top of the dresser. The wall closet was closed, hardly more than a couple of jackets and one shirt stored within. A soft whisper from the wind billowed in from the opened balcony door, the warm summer breeze drifting the scent of him to her. Not offensive, definitely not repulsive, but not sweet and cloying either. Just…him. It was the scent of regality, confidence, arrogance and something more that defined him as one of a kind. She ventured further in and headed towards the balcony, finding him just standing there, lost in his own thoughts. It didn't seem as if he saw or even noticed her presence. His eyes seemed glazed over, he was a million miles away, though his body was standing right before her, his powerful and intimidating arms crossed over his impossibly ripped and sculpted chest, the classic pose and poise of The Prince of All Saiyans. The moon looked as if it were a spotlight shining down on only him, bathing him, highlighting the full splendor of him. The darkness that surrounded them only served to heighten the mystique and ever-present menace of his persona, to which she knew was just a mere pretense, a façade by which he used as an armor. He was an enigma. And he knew that. He used it to his advantage, a skill he knew brutally well. One minute, seemingly receptive, contemplative even to other people, comments or opinion.

In the blink of an eye, pain, suffering and death given with frightening speed and accuracy.

He'd never shown that to her. Annoyance, megalomaniacal, attitude and constantly challenging her, yes. But with his extremely sharp intelligence and wit, never physically harming her. Instinctively, he knew if he resorted to physical violence, it would show how much more supreme she was, proving that she could win their battles, without ever physically touching him. That he would never tolerate. He was not her ex.

He, Vegeta, The Prince of All Saiyans was exponentially better than him.

She lightly touched his arm, finding herself near him unexplainably, and saw the muscles tense underneath her touch, bringing him back to the here and now. She looked up and saw he had focused his gaze down to her, the heat emanating from his body caused her to unconsciously take a step back and remove her hand from his hand.

Well, she tried to anyway.

But he grasped her hand and held it there against his arm, continuing to stare at her. There was something in his eyes, something she caught miniscule glimpses of before, but never was able to fully register what it could possibly mean. She tried to find her voice, but his beauty, yes, HIS beauty had mesmerized her so completely that it seemed like an eternity before she remembered she knew how to talk. But just when she finally was confident that there would be actual vocalization that was going to occur from her, he removed the hand from hers and placed them on her lips, effectively rooting her to the spot, and silencing her. She was caught. Stuck in his gaze. Trapped, ensnared, use any verb to describe it, and that's how she was. She couldn't move away from him at that moment in time even if her life depended on it.

And he knew that.

That's when she saw him inching closer down to her, watching his lips make its way to hers. Vaguely, she realized her throat was parched, and dry, having not swallowed to keep it moist because all thought of normal bodily functions escaped her, her body separated from her mind, as both seemed to have abandoned her and left her vulnerable.

Then, she felt them. His lips touching down onto hers, and she instantly melted. How she managed to stay vertical was beyond her, much less being able to withstand another soul-capturing kiss. And…he lingered all along her mouth, tracing hers with his own, soft, tiny butterfly kisses. His breath, soft, warm, seductive, caressed her face. She inhaled him, feeling as if his essence was now inside of her, and as corny as it sounded, it seemed as if he was giving her the kiss of life.

Finally, she felt alive.

"What are you doing here, Onna?"

6 words. Those simple, questioning words seemed to stop time in its tracks. She knew as well as he did she had no business being in his room. They always fought, always screamed and bickered, always schemed to make the other person's life a living hell. They hated each other with a relish, not hiding that fact from the other. Absolutely abhorred and reviled each other, didn't they?

Didn't they?

"I, uh, um, there was a light I saw from the hall, coming from your room, and…"

"And what?" He viciously said, her hand effectively locked in his again. His face…inches from her own, all she could see was those eyes boring a hole through her.

"There's no business that you have being here. So what if there was a light coming from my room? You have absolutely no business…no fucking right to be around me. To infect me with the disease that is you." The words he said, were like knives stabbing her heart, each one causing her to flinch and wither visibly before his eyes. The part of him that loved reactions like these relished and gleefully celebrated, the harsh glint glimmering in those black pools.

"You are nothing but a nosy, annoying, irritating, self-righteous, spoiled, conniving brat. Constantly sticking your nose in my business, where it absolutely has no business being. This compound that you and your family have flaunted to everyone on this miserable planet is large enough to separate your wretched self from my presence. Yet you always seem to be in my way, in my vicinity. I never asked for your help. Never asked or insinuated or hinted of needing your "hospitality". Your damned gravity room has nothing to offer me. It hasn't made me into the Super Saiyan that I rightfully deserve. I'm still second to that miserable example of a third class idiot. You're useless, a pointless footnote that is unfortunately in my life right now." He painfully, slowly said, measured and punctuated, driving its viciousness into her, ripping her apart inside.

She was stunned. Frozen. Broken. Impossibly, she paled even further before his eyes, surprising him just a little. Her hurt, the pain of his words clearly and utterly evident on her delicate features. Again, surprising him, the complete opposite reaction of what he expected from her.

What the fuck?

Shock was a mild way of saying what he felt at that realization. But it consumed him enough that he didn't realize she had somehow managed to break free from his grasp and was no longer standing in front of him, wilting. Blinking, snapping himself out of his reverie, he looked for her, wondering what the hell had just happened. Didn't she hate him? Wasn't this all a game to her? Showing off her "superiority", her status, rubbing his face, his pride into it? She didn't have any compassion or empathy for him. She didn't care for him, right?

Right?

But…then why did she look like I had reached inside of her and ripped out her soul, tearing it to shreds? Why did she look…as if I'd just killed her? Why was she running away? He could feel her small life force, such a negligible energy compared to his, fleeing away, it seemed to be dangerously fluctuating, but growing dimmer and fainter, not because of the distance she was desperately trying to create from him…but because, because…

'Because it seemed…she was wounded, dying'.

He touched his lips, the softness and desire within hers still searing into his, not the cold or unfeeling that he thought he'd receive. That he'd been so sure he'd receive from her. She seemed…she seemed to have been baring her soul to him in that kiss, leaving her extremely vulnerable and open to decimation.

Something he did exactly.

That's not right. That can't be. This is all a game to her, she does not care for me, she's just using me! He reasoned with himself. "Graciously" housing me, feeding me, clothing me all because she wants something from me, my strength and power to help create the victory she wanted to be celebrating when the androids were defeated. She's nothing but a user, he screamed to himself, trying to ignore the large knots twisting him inside as he blasted from the balcony in pursuit of her, wanting to confront her with this. That's the only reason for the little bitch's "hospitality" isn't it?

Isn't it?


	2. Panic

**The Kiss**

** Rated T **

**Disclaimer: I do not own any DBZ or any characters remotely associated with it. I'd be stupid to even try.**

****Thank you so much to everyone who's reviewed this little story so far! Originally, I had intended for this to be just a one-shot…but because of the awesome feedback, my imagination has gone into overdrive and I can see the development of this into something more. ****** I hope that I don't disappoint, but if I do, please be a bit gentle with your critique…I cry easily. **

**Chapter 2 – Panic**

"Bulma? Bulma! Oh God, Bulma, please, please look at me! Honey, please! Bulma!" Chi Chi cried, growing increasingly hysterical, shaking her friend, hoping for a sign of recognition from the young woman. Her husband had found her, lying extremely cold in a fetal position underneath a large oak tree, eyes wide open, her breathing, barely detectable, ragged and labored.

There was no sign of recognition. No sign of life that Goku could see in those normally vivacious twin oceans. He had phased in close to her and gently picked up her body and cradled her in his lap, seeing only the mirrored reflection of himself within empty eyes. He could tell that whatever had caused this had happened after she had gotten home, for she was still wearing her lab coat over a plain yellow t-shirt and weather-beaten, holey jeans. A few scraps of paper, a couple of pens and some spare change jingling in the pockets.

"Bulma?" Goku whispered, his voice cracking, so full of fear and dread, hoping against hope that she would respond to him. "Bulma, it's Goku, c'mon please, please stop messing around! Bulma, can you hear me, Bulma?" The warrior was beginning to shake and tremble, as he waited for a response, but only a few crickets in the distance answered his plea. His dearest friend was shattered, and the feeling of total helplessness of not being able to prevent this pain overwhelmed the greatest fighter the universe had ever known.

Goku had been at Kami's watch tower with Piccolo, both hoping to find out more information about Trunks' time, and the androids he had foretold to come. Kami was confirming all that Bulma's future son had said to Goku in private (to which, Piccolo overheard), when Kami suddenly stopped talking, and looked directly at Goku, staring at the young, gentle warrior with such intensity that his gaze began to unnerve the powerful Saiyan.

"Ah, ha ha ha, Kami? Is something wrong? Do I have crumbs on my face or something?" Goku nervously laughed, one hand unconsciously scratching the back of his head.

"Goku. Trunks…is in danger." Kami slowly replied, his face turned in Goku's direction, but the old Namekian's eyes focused well beyond the warrior standing before him.

"What! Kami, what's going on? Can you see Trunks right now? What's happening to him? What can we do? Without a time machine to bring us to his time …"

"No, no Goku," Kami seemed to be talking as if he were in a faraway tunnel, his voice faint and so very distant "His…his mother…Bulma."

And just like that, Goku's heart sank. Two fingers flew to his forehead concentrating on his oldest and dearest friend's life force. For a long while, Goku just…stood there, his instant transmission technique…not behaving instantaneously for a very long time. His eyes darkened further, the corners of his mouth turned down into more of a frown than even anything that Vegeta had ever worn. Beads of sweat began forming along the wild-haired hairline of the young man.

"Goku! What the hell's wrong with you?" Piccolo shouted, the weight and seriousness of the situation not lost on the brooding Namek. Piccolo could see the immense struggle Goku was having locating her, and just as he himself was feeling the pit of his stomach churning, he could see the wild desperation in Goku's eyes, trying so hard to find her.

"I…I can't…something's wrong…" Goku painfully gasped, his chest tightening, an immense sickening feeling lumping itself deep within him. "Bulma, Oh God, Bulma, where are you!" Just as the panic and desperation was beginning to strangle him, he caught her, a tiny fraction of whatever was left of her ki.

"THERE!" And with that, he was gone.

"What the fuck happened to Bulma, old man?" Shouted the younger Namekian, his eyes ablaze and full of fire and anger, lashing out at his former self.

"…she's….lost, Piccolo." Kami said, coming back to the present and facing a very agitated and angry Piccolo. "She's…in so much pain…"

And with that the blood in Piccolo's veins ran cold. He could see the overwhelming despair in Kami's eyes, and knew that for the Guardian of the Earth to show this much distress, that it must mean that whatever has happened to Bulma, would have grave repercussions in the course of Trunks' time, AND their own.

Right now, it looked to Piccolo that The Apocalypse was upon them.

"Piccolo…she must be saved. I fear although Trunks and his mother had of course all the best intentions in the world when they decided to travel back in time to warn us, by telling us about the hopelessness of theirs, I fear that they've done an enormous amount of irreparable damage to this timeline, and the natural progression of it."

The old Guardian leaned heavily on his staff, hunched over, his eyes closed as Mr. PoPo, his ever faithful companion, became distressed at the sight before him. The weariness of this situation clearly visible on Kami's face, and it took more than a few moments before Kami spoke again.

"Bulma has been broken. All life, fire, her will to live has been nearly extinguished." Piccolo's eyes widened in the finality of Kami's statement. His incredulousness and fury wanted to demand Kami why this was not seen before, but Kami raised his hand to silence him and continue. "A body broken…we can heal, take care, nurse back to health, even bring back from the precipice between life and death. But a soul pained, wounded, ripped apart…is not as easily fixed…if at all fixed." With that, Kami lifted his gaze back up to Piccolo, who finally saw the meaning in his words.

Bulma was not hurt physically. She was mortally wounded emotionally, spiritually. Since Trunks' arrival a few months ago, the bleakness of the future that he came from was something all of Earth's fighters wanted to prevent. With the 3 years forewarning, and the heart medicine that would save Goku's life, there had been a certain air of hope, a bit of confidence in seeing a brighter future unfold for their time, than the one that Trunks had come from.

Of course, as this had originally been told only to Goku, Trunks had shown and proved to his mother's oldest friend that he himself was a Super Saiyan, and unfortunately, the last one of their kind in his world. Goku had been struck down by the virus even before the arrival of the androids. His mentor and whom he considered a deep kinship with and his oldest brother, Gohan, had died, protecting Trunks and Bulma, because his father…Vegeta, had been killed early on in the nightmare of the androids.

The revelation of Trunks being the product of an unlikely and unforeseen union between Bulma and Vegeta needless to say, stupefied and nearly toppled both the soft-hearted Saiyan and the former Devil. But the immense power of the transformed golden-haired youth standing before Goku could not be ignored. Goku was basically a younger brother to Bulma, as well as being married, and Gohan…well, that was just downright wrong, that only left one other Saiyan in the entire universe Trunks could have possible came from.

The impossibly, pain-in-the-ass Prince of All Saiyans.

And both Goku and Piccolo knew how grimly stacked the deck was against anything remotely resembling a relationship between Bulma and Vegeta.

But they also knew that no other woman on Earth and most likely the universe, could withstand and give Vegeta a run for his money, just as they knew that only a man of equal wit, cunning and supreme intelligence could hold his own and tame the fiery, blue-haired goddess.

And that certainly was not going to be Yamcha.

"Bulma, please, I need you to hold on for me, okay?" He begged her, fighting the onslaught of tears that were about to make their presence known. Goku felt ill as he gently cradled her prone, almost lifeless body close to him, a ghostly shell of the first woman he ever loved.

"Bulma? Bulma, I'm taking us back to my home, okay? We're going to see Chi Chi and Gohan, they always love seeing you." Goku had fought to control his composure as he telepathically spoke to his wife and son. This normally unafraid man and infinitely confident Super Saiyan was completely scared and on the verge of tears.

Panic could not begin to describe what he was feeling.


	3. Let the games begin

*****Gosh, thank you all so much for liking this. I'm truly honored, thank you! This and the next chapter technically should be together, but I think that separating it into two chapters were for the best. Chapter 4 should be up in a couple of days. I hope everyone continues to like this little story, it's only going to get more intense from here!**** **

**Disclaimer: I wish I owned DBZ, but then again, I wish I were also just a little bit taller, and since that's not gonna come true, then most definitely I have no claim to the DBZ world whatsoever. ;)  
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**Chapter 3 - Let the games begin**

That had not been the first time she had ever laid a hand on his arm, even though the ill-tempered and often snarling Prince despises and cringes being touched, especially by her.

That had not been the first time she'd been paralyzed and lost in the abyss of his soul, even though the windows she peered into showed how much of a chaotic place it was, so full of pain, terror, anguish and torture.

And…that had not been the first time that they had shared a kiss. Leaving one party to suppress and hide a long held desire, of desperate want and need, while the other thinking it meant absolutely nothing, nothing more than a part of a cruel game to be played by people who were no longer innocent babes, using that excuse to protect a frightened heart.

No, there had been one other time before.

It had been an accident, that kiss. Well, in his eyes at least. An accident that he'd been trying to avoid repeating so desperately since then. He'd been going out of his way to avoid her, again, but this time, consciously, so that he wouldn't have his heart instinctively begging his brain to allow his eyes to show her how much yearning he had for her.

He closed his eyes as he sped over the countryside looking for the little onna. His traitorous heart had not been giving him any peace since that day, berating him, nagging him. Insisting that the feel of her gloriously soft skin underneath his fingertips, the sweetness of her wondrous scent, that seemed to be a mixture of jasmine and orchids, and the way her lips tasted like blueberries, drove him insane, his heart constantly pounding into him that once was not enough.

He knew that for some time, she had been trying to gradually let Yamcha know that they did not belong together anymore. Not in the present, and definitely not as part of her future. There had been many hushed and quiet conversations he caught between the onna and Kakkarot's mate, about her feelings toward the human, what had gone on between them, that after all this time of being together, they both obviously had changed and were going in different directions. Gone were the days of insecurity and naivety of her youth. The stark reality of adulthood was that they were both no longer innocent; cheating on each other was a common but unspoken bond they'd shared, at least after the first time.

The woman vehemently attested that she had not been the first one to cheat, that a passionate, spontaneous fuck on the 2am train heading home between two complete strangers DEFINITELY was the definition of cheating. And as she'd said to Kakkarot's female "what goes around, comes around, and that Karma definitely is a bitch" as it were in Yamcha's case. The gorgeous redhead that he'd had a 5 minute quickie with on the train turned out to have been the sister of one of Bulma's sorority sisters. Strike number two for Yamcha was that the _fraternity_ he was a part of was the corresponding "brother" of Bulma's sorority, and the classic scenario of college frat parties, lots of drinking, lots of illegal contraband, lots of drunk sex always leads to the unfortunate revelation of secrets thought to never see the light of day.

So that A + B = a very volatile, knockout, drag out, bitch-slappin', ball-kickin' "C". Boy, had Yamcha been surprised.

Yamcha's indiscretion devastated her. Gone was the shy, easily-flustered, adventurous, good-hearted, bombastic, fire bomb super genius. In its place was a devious, deceitful, sexy, sexual, temperamental, aggressive, manipulative temptress. Bulma graduated Suma Cum Laude in wielding this new set of skills, ask the men's gymnastics, swim and baseball teams. Nothing but a trail of tears left behind in her wake. Needless to say, Yamcha had not been happy.

But like she'd said, what goes around, comes around. And karma had definitely been a bitch.

Hard to imagine how one person could have flipped a person so drastically, but then again we're talking about a woman that came from pomp and circumstance and privilege, sheltered in a homogenized environment, her childhood fun and charmed. She had grown up with the children of the most wealthiest and powerful people of the world, and had grown up with friends that simply describing them as extraordinary would be an insult. She was completely ill-equipped to deal with the vacuous reality of the outside world.

Yamcha should have been proud of himself. The first person she fell in love with broke her heart, and set Bulma down the path of future battles and confrontations with the Prince of Pain.

But I'm getting ahead of myself, let's rewind a bit, shall we?

So, what exactly did all of this mean? After so many years of backstabbing, games and cruelness between Yamcha and Bulma, she'd decided it was time to grow up, and learn to be a well-rounded woman, someone that was innately sweet and kind, but had enough savvy and experience with the fact that treachery lay within every person's heart, and she definitely was no exception.

And though she was slowly weaning Yamcha away from her, a small part of her was growing, the one that wanted to cut him off now, to finally taste the freedom that she'd long craved. Besides, her heart and mind had been drifting off lately, and daydreams of a certain cranky houseguest had begun to invade her thoughts. The only way to protect herself was to mercilessly annoy, antagonize and goad the magniloquent prince, to hide her true emotions from him as well as herself, knowing that he would never feel for her the way she's beginning to feel about him.

Vegeta of course upon hearing her disclose her wish to Chi Chi, relished the thought of finally being rid of this poor excuse of a human, in his opinion. His dislike of Kakkarot was because he hated to admit that the younger, taller warrior was more powerful than him, and…that he had close bonds with others that didn't deceive him, and haven't been used against him by his enemies. 'No check that, Krillen had been killed right in front of Goku...and look what happened." Snarled the prince, closing his eyes and shaking his head in disgust, reliving the reason why the kind-hearted fool was now the most powerful warrior in the universe. Vegeta's aura glowed angrily, a streaking blinding light zipping around in the night sky. Vegeta learned early on, that close bonds with another person was filled with pain, because they'd either abandoned or betrayed The Prince, or were used against him, often times…tortured and or killed right before his eyes. Vegeta's dislike of Yamcha…was just because he did. Try as he might to pinpoint an exact reason why, in the end he gave up, deciding that the reason was of no real consequence.

Unfortunately, Chi Chi wasn't able to come up with any ideas of how to help Bulma. She was loud, demanding, psychotic, way too overly protective of Gohan, a complete despot, and a damn good cook, but treachery was just not in her makeup. And as much of a genius Bulma was and she definitely had been around the block, for the life of her, she couldn't figure out a way to get rid of Yamcha now, short of murder.

Boy, Bulma should have thanked her lucky stars that The Prince of All Saiyans, arguably the foremost authority in deceit and lies was staying at her home. Although, truth be told, he would have subscribed to the idea of just murdering the bastard to be done with it.

So in the last conversation that he'd overheard between the two women, the wheels began to turn, a battle plan was being formed. As he saw it, he really was going into battle, to finally release the little blue haired female from the ties that binded her to Yamcha, so that her eyes and her heart would finally be opened to show her that there was a much more worthy being in her midst.

'Wait, what the fuck was that? Where the hell did that come from?', gasped the young prince in horror.

'I must be really low on fuel to think of something as foolish as that', Vegeta thought, growling angrily to himself, chalking it up to low blood sugar because he hadn't eaten yet. A 26k pre-dawn run and a brutal 500g training session afterwards would cause anyone to talk out of their ass and make them delusional. Still, the chance to so thoroughly embarrass the so-called fighter, even if it was as trivial as participating in the demise of their relationship was just too irresistible to leave alone, and promised to be loads of fun for a very long time.

'Who knows?' he mused, 'I might even get an extra bonus surprise after I help her." The smile that quietly graced his features was so very cliché, but definitely fit into the situation at hand.

Truthfully, it would have been nice if Bulma had known that something was afoot, that things would be said, and secrets would be revealed and exposed. At least, she would have had time to prepare. But of course, this is Vegeta were talking about.

When it comes to battle, surprise is the ultimate weapon, and for her to be completely freed from _him_, genuine betrayal would be needed. As he continued to listen in on their conversation, the devious smile turned into a wicked grin slowly spreading across his face.

Let the games begin.


	4. Too Good To Be True

**Disclaimer: ****Yes I wish Vegeta and Goku were mine, do you know the naughty things I would do to them? But alas…DBZ and *sigh* Vegeta & Goku do not belong to me. **

*****Ah hahaha, I hope this explains why I separated ch. 3 from 4. I'm not sure if anyone would have wanted to read a 12 page chapter, but these two were necessary to give an explanation. Please be gentle! I really do cry easily. ****:(****

**Chapter 4: Too Good To Be True**

"Bulma, I've got a question for you, and I need for you to be honest with me." The woman on the other end of the line said, as they were about to wrap up their conversation. This had been nagging at Chi Chi for some time, and she was hopeful that what she would get back from Bulma was not going to be what she feared.

"Well of course, Chi. What's up?"

"I saw you a couple of weeks ago coming out of a drug store. You had dark glasses on and from what I could see, there looked to be a bit of a light purple color coming from under your glasses and a bluish/purple bruise at the back of your arm. Care to explain?"

A pin could have been dropped in the fjords of Finland and that would have still been louder than the silence that suddenly permeated the den.

"Is there another reason for the need to end it with him, Bulma?"

"Count yourself lucky, Chi. Though your husband is focused on fighting, eats, breathes, lives for it and is one of the strongest warriors in the universe…he does not need, nor does he desire to ever use his strength against you. I know you, Chi. You're a strong, vocal woman, always fighting to have it your way, but even the most heated arguments and fights between you two, it does not result with you tasting his fist."

A stunned silence and incredulity enveloped Chi Chi and Vegeta. Being Saiyan, most conversations could be yards away, and he'd still be able to hear them with pretty good accuracy. Only Nameckians have better hearing than Saiyans. With secret number one being revealed, two people who pretty much hate the other's guts had the same reaction, that neither wanted.

What the fuck?

"It's not the main reason, Chi Chi. Even before it happened the first time, I'd been thinking of ending it with him, but lately…." Bulma trailed off. She didn't really want to say too much about it. As it was, she felt she'd already said too much. They all grew up together. An integral part of each other's lives, and for something like this to be….from someone they all thought they knew, loved and cared about…the news would not go over well.

"I think…with all of the stress of the coming androids, Goku's death, the inevitable hopelessness of the situation, I think, I think he's just very stressed, Chi." Bulma said quietly, trying to be as convincing as possible that she was alright and it wasn't a big deal.

"Besides, it's only been a couple of times, and I was a roaring bitch, way more than usual, Chi, and you know that's saying a lot!" Joked Bulma, trying to desperately lighten it up, but Chi Chi was getting more and more angry, as was evident by the rising tone in her scathing words.

"Oh my God, Bulma! What the hell's wrong with you? How could you let that happen, to let it keep happening?" Shouted the other woman. Super sensitive hearing would not have been necessary to hear Chi Chi.

Nope, it was downright painful.

How could he have missed it? Where the hell had he been? The asshole spent plenty of time over at his home, how did he not hear anything, know that this had been going on under his roof?

Training yes, it was a top priority. Ruefully, he realized he was never really around her. He trained, ate and slept. 90% of the first and 5% each for the other two. And with Bulma's room being at the other end of the hall, chances of them interacting by accident would be rare. No, it would have to be on purpose, but with her workaholic attitude and his all consuming need to become a Super Saiyan, and the fact that he didn't want to risk running into her and her damn human…

There were a couple of times when he noticed some peculiar behavior from the onna, subdued, quiet, meekful. Those days she usually scurried away, at times, all he'd catch would be glimpses of her blue hair disappearing away. He just chalked it up as one of the many peculiarities of humans, especially female humans.

"Aargh! Why did I have such an urge to help this onna? She's nothing but a weakness! Why did I fucking care! She's not fit to even be in my presence, so why did I…"

The night sky twinkled and blinked above, as the cold, biting air warped and bent around The Saiyan Prince's ki shield as he flew in search of the blue haired beauty, who'd fled in severe pain, pain that he was responsible for. Vegeta's brow furrowed as he opened his mind, reaching out, looking for her ki. A ki that was now extremely faint, even more so than usual.

"Yamcha, we don't belong together, you know that." Bulma had gone home early that fateful day a few weeks ago, pretty much resolved to ending it. She knew Yamcha would be coming by, as he always did, well that is if he wasn't out on an 'appointment', which in Yamcha-speak, was that he would be on a date.

"Where the hell is this coming from Bulma?" Yamcha had visibly started to shake from the anger that was oozing out from him, his eyes had become darker, menacing, something she'd never seen before.

Except those times she became intimately acquainted with his fists.

Bulma took a couple of steps back as Yamcha began to advance toward her, until he'd backed her up against the wall that led directly into the kitchen. His mouth was set in a very unhappy frown as he peered at her through slitted eyes. He loomed over her, his arms on either side of her head, cutting her off from any chance of an escape. Bulma was scared, trying so hard not to cower in front of him, something that Yamcha was waiting for.

"I'm tired of all the lies and pain, Yamcha! I'm tired of your fucking around! I'm not a little girl anymore, dependant on a man for my happiness! Being with you has made me so sick to the core that my skin crawls when I'm with you!"

She was shaking from the anger she'd had kept inside, the fear of being alone always overriding the need for self-preservation. She'd swallowed the humiliation and pain he'd inflicted on her, from the many times he'd cheated, to the smacks he'd been fond of giving lately. But everyone has a breaking point. Some are able to release it gradually, and some had just had enough, and popped like an overfilled balloon. She wanted to be free, she needed to put him in her past so that she finally would have a chance for a future.

Yes, it's a tired cliché. When you're able to see something terrible about to befall you, everything does move in slow motion. Fine details become clear, the thin film of sweat glistening along the arm that was making its way down from above. Bulma could see the muscles in his forearm twitch in anticipation of the hand it's attached to making contact along the smooth fragile structure of her face. She could see in his eyes that the young man she fell in love with so long ago was no longer, a stranger now resided in the man before her, something she'd been ignoring for far too long. She involuntarily cringed and turned away, her eyes closing, an arm raised in a weak attempt of defending herself.

Pain was on its way.

Bulma felt a slight pressure and warmth of a living being on her left cheek…but, that was all. She cracked open her eyes and found she was looking directly into a pair of black diamonds staring at her. Gravity busting, flame-shaped hair gave form and shape to an olive complexioned face, his bone structure was nothing short of perfect, chiseled, angular, strong. His brows knitted down toward the center of his face, connecting to the bridge of a well-shapped nose, as was befitting of the stature of the face it belonged to. His lips…although the corners were turned downwards as it always was, she could see how perfectly smooth the flesh was, thin, but baby pink in color, tempting her to run her fingers over them. The thick cords of muscle in his neck were bunched up on one side, as that side was a little higher than the other side, since the hands attached to the powerfully muscled arm was holding an arm above his head, the owner of whom was staring disbelievingly at the back of the man now before him, his eyes dilated, mouth agape, not expecting this intrusion.

"What. Do. You. Think. You're. Doing" Cold, piercing eyes glared at the scarred fighter angularly, turning away from the beautiful creature in front of him "Asshole?" The shorter man squeezed the arm in his grasp and twisted his wrist, earning him a very satisfying yelp and whimper of pain as the taller fighter was forced to bend down to the same level as the prince in pain.

Bulma licked her dry lips, which reminded her to actually take a breath. The man standing before her was not the man who was about to inflict pain onto her, but it was disconcerting, why would the prince who always had his panties in a bunch be intervening? Why would he help her, when he often said to her that she was an insignificant flea, not worth giving a damn about?

So…why was he giving a damn all of a sudden?

She was about to ask him just that, but found herself swallowing the question, and her tongue for that matter when she felt a large, warm, powerful hand claim the tiny curve of her waist, the hand seemingly at home there, the palm resting lightly on the top of her pelvis. Her azure jewels dropped down, tracing the imposing muscles from the prince's neck, down the taut flexed muscles of his upper torso, his biceps enormous, Bulma longing to stroke them, to feel the power beneath his flawless skin. She found herself hypnotized by the slow gentle movement of his thumb pressed lightly against her stomach, caressing her softly, moving back and forth comfortingly. Still unable to speak, she looked back into the face of her rescuer, the man before her, his eyes…his eyes seemed to be a bit softer than it normally was. She definitely did not feel any hatred directed at her at that moment, and…it seemed that in this moment, that was suspended in time, it seemed he was allowing her to really see him for the first time, a childlike fear, clearly evident on his face, his eyes pleading with her…not to hurt him. Not to reject him.

I think I've just lost my mind. This just seems too good to be true.

"Darling, are you okay?" A squeak was uttered from the taller man, leaning over close to them, doubled over in pain as Vegeta's vice grip still held Yamcha's arm, shock and disbelief taking the place of pain for a second upon hearing Vegeta's term of endearment. His arm was an angry red color, that was also beginning to turn a sickly shade of blue as the blood was being prevented from circulating completely.

"What…do…you mean by 'darling' you murdering bastard?" Yamcha was enraged 'how DARE he call her that, she's fucking mine!' He bit his tongue painfully as the pain of Vegeta's grip added insult to injury. His eyes glittered in cold fury as a he saw the hand on Bulma's waist, and grew exponentially more pissed as that hand travelled upwards, sliding behind her neck, brushing away some fine baby hairs so that he could have more skin to skin contact with her.

To say Yamcha was mad was putting it mildly.

"What's wrong ass wipe? Something bothering you?" Vegeta was in heaven, enjoying Yamcha's outrage and anger. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw and felt her lean into his touch, and…it felt so good to him. Shaking himself, he realized that she had been watching him intently, trying to see just what he was up to. She didn't seem to be angry, just puzzled, so Vegeta flashed her a small smile, just a hint of an upturn of one of the corners of his mouth. In that moment, Bulma realized he was trying to help her with her problem, and she visibly relaxed, eliciting a genuine smile from him. His smile was fleeting, for in the next instant, shock shadowed the handsome prince's features as Bulma decided to really indulge in the game that was now being played. A delicate hand reached up to caress the sharp planes of the Saiyan Prince's face, lightly gliding over his smooth skin, marveling at the feel of him beneath her fingers. Slowly, tentatively, from the plumpest part of his cheek, down to trace the strong jaw line, absently noting the twinges she was creating, seeing that her touches were having a massive effect on him. She found herself absolutely loving that. Bulma saw the prince's eyes following her movements very closely as she pressed her body closer to him, and he reacted instinctively, strongly, the hand that was just on her waist, now becoming an entire arm encircling her protectively. Possessively. She rested her hand upon his chest and felt the power pulsating underneath her hand, she was rapidly becoming drunk, loving the reactions he was giving her, unconsciously stepping more into his arm, resting her head just under his chin as she closed her eyes and felt the delicious heat the prince was giving off.

'God she smells so intoxicating and she feels so good in my arms…so right."

Though shocking as her reaction had been, it paled in comparison to what Bulma did next. He'd been relieved and happy by her cooperation, loving the look of horror and absolute fury on Yamcha's face. When Bulma had pressed closer to Vegeta and tucked herself under his chin, Yamcha somehow found the strength to wrench himself from Vegeta's grasp, massaging his wrist, now tingling with thousands of painful needles as the blood came rushing back to his extremities.

"You dirty, fucking whore! I should have known you'd fuck a filthy monkey!" Bulma opened her eyes, whatever love she still had for him, died after hearing his words. She could feel Vegeta emanating waves and waves of anger, what Yamcha said, angered Vegeta to no end and he fully embraced Bulma protectively, a deep angry growl rumbling out from deep within. Bulma should have let Vegeta do what she knew he would most likely do, but she just didn't have the heart for it, and knew short of getting Goku to hold Vegeta back, nothing else would. Unless….

"Filthy monkey? Why you little prick, you will regret having those words leave your mouth…" the rest of the threat was lost when he felt a couple of dainty fingers gently turn his head, making him look down at the little onna. She slithered an arm hesitantly to the back of his head, until, until…until he tasted heaven, for the first time.

Heaven tasted like blueberries. Who knew? The softness of her lips, shyly met his as she hoped this had been enough of a distraction to have Yamcha's life spared. Bulma felt him lean into her, into her touch, into her kiss, and she absolutely loved it.

'Well, Vegeta is definitely full of surprises today.' His yearning, something long forgotten came rushing back to him with a vengeance, and Bulma could taste the desire in his lips – and this was just a kiss. 'I wonder how it would be…' Vegeta broke off the kiss suddenly, staring down at her, shocked at what just happened. There were a million questions flashing rapidly in his eyes, she could feel the slight tremble coming from him. All she could do was give him a small smile as she looked back at him.

"I was trying to spare you from knowing about this, Yamcha. But I always knew intelligence was not your strongest attribute." A smirk frighteningly reminiscent of Vegeta's graced her face, as a malevolent chuckle escaped Vegeta's lips as he looked on.

"I suggest you leave, Yamcha. Now. You cannot imagine how pissed Vegeta is right now. I won't be able to hold him back if he decides you're not worth taking up space on this planet anymore. And I doubt I'd lift a finger to stop him." The threat was not lost on both men. Yamcha was livid, shaking with fear and indignity, a stark contrast to the swell of pride and confidence in the eyes of the prince, his eyes glittering dangerously an enormous grin plastered across his face as his hand tightened on Bulma, but not painfully as he held her with such gentleness and tenderness that he was faintly aware of.

With his pride torn to shreds, Yamcha stiffly turned around and walked toward the door. He stopped as he reached for the knob and looked back, one last look upon the woman he'd first loved. As he was about to walk out of her life for the last time, a parting shot was taken at his expense.

"You had her in your grasps, she was yours, ever loyal and patient with you, though we both know you didn't deserve it. Even though you lowered your standing as a man by actually turning on someone who was infinitely weaker than you, she still loved you. A foolish thing on the woman, but understandable because" Vegeta closed his eyes "because of pride. I may be a lot of things, but I know well enough to know that loyalty from a mate is one tie that is stronger than blood, if nurtured and not betrayed. This is the last time you will set foot in this house. The last time you will ever lay a finger on my mate."

And with that, the scarred warrior walked out of her life for the last time, having been replaced, at least in his eyes, by someone that deserved her less than he did, or so he thought.

He would eventually see the folly in his words.

They were left standing there, the two 'lovers' untangling themselves from each other, and just stood there. Saying that there was an uncomfortable silence that hung in the air was putting it mildy, things needed to be explained, and most importantly, his pride needed to be restored.

And boy, did he do so with a vengeance.

"Vegeta…"

"Don't. I didn't do it for you." Steely cold eyes stared at the blue haired goddess "With your incessant whining to Kakkarot's harpy, and the constant fighting you've had with that asshole, I've not been able to concentrate, to be able to claim my rightful title as the most powerful being in the universe! Your weakness had been barely tolerable and I've grown sick and tired of it! I've had enough of your fucking drama! Cleaning house…was the only way for me to finally have the chance to ascend!" A pained look crossed her face momentarily, but he saw it and then saw that it was replaced with a coldness that rivaled his own.

With supreme confidence, making his pale in comparison, he was shocked at her audacity, stalking up to him, pushing her body back up against his, looking him straight in the eyes, her hands running over his arms, the hardness of his chest flexing again under her touch. He was about to scream bloody murder in her face when the action was stopped dead in his throat, and his eyes basically fell out of his head, and his jaw hit the floor…as her hand deftly rand down his chest, past his stomach, following his happy trail to the massive bulge that he didn't know he'd had where her hand confidently settled. All he could do was growl, both at his body for betraying him and at the little female, the balls on the woman for basically laying claim to him. A frighteningly feral smirk twisted her pretty dainty lips as she leaned in close to him, her breath warm and sweet, making the hairs on his neck and everywhere else stand up at attention. He held his breath and shrank unconsciously away from her, very uncharacteristic of the arrogant prince, her gaze unwavering, freezing him completely.

'Damn. Now I know why everyone cowers to this bitch.' It was all he could do to growl at her, the sound strained and very forced. Bulma just smiled ruthlessly.

"Thanks Vegeta." She whispered into his ear and surreptitiously squeezed his member pulsing against her hand, making him shudder involuntarily "It was good for me too."

And with that, she sauntered off, one hand enticingly on her hip, swaying to and fro seductively, as she made her way up the staircase. He released his breath that he'd been holding as she demonstrated her power over him. Looking back over her shoulder, she grinned impishly at the stunned prince, knowing that she had turned the tables on him. But the pain of a broken heart resurfaced as she continued up the staircase, something that she didn't know was there or maybe just something she didn't want to acknowledge. Whatever the reason, his callous words…

A silent tear escaped from her eye and landed quietly on the plush carpeted floor once she reached the landing to the hallway. As she walked towards her room, her voice hitched with the emotion she was barely able to keep from escaping, a last phrase was whispered from a broken heart, one that the Saiyan prince did not expect to hear, one that has been haunting him since that day.

'Too good to be true.'


	5. The Promise of Protection

**Disclaimer: Yup, I don't own DBZ. Phooey. **

**A/N: I am going between characters and also going back and forth from the present to the past. I hope that's understandable, I've tried to make sure of that. I feel that it gives a tie to what's happening and why. But if it's not, please let me know. And this chapter I thought should be a much shorter chapter. Please r/r, thanks so much! :)**

**Chapter 5:**** Promise of Protection**

"…Oh God, I…I have to…I have to get out of here…" Bulma brokenly thought, her eyes unfocused, looking around desperately as the tears in her eyes clouded her view. Her breathing was erratic, labored, the pain…the pain welling up from deep within threatened to overwhelm her and strangle her.

She was half stumbling, half running away, or as near to running away as could be described. She held onto the banister as she made her way down the flight of stairs, the carpeted steps absorbing each tear that fell from her face. Slipping a little as she got to the cold, concrete floor, the night sky once again welcomed Bulma as she finally made it outside, each shaky breath taken chilled from the frosty night air. Her heart, feeling so many millions of knives constantly stabbing her, relentless in its assault, making each step heavy and strained, the pain she was going through only intensifying as she turned and looked up back at the balcony.

The moon still shone down on the man she fell in love with, an ethereal glow surrounding him, heightening the pain of rejection she was now suffering from. Her heart was being ripped apart, the throbbing in her head that had begun steadily got worse, climaxing to an all out assault of blinding pain. Bulma could see the thicket of trees just up ahead, perhaps…perhaps getting away as far as she could from him can give her some measure of peace.

But deep down, she knew there would be none. Not without him.

Her voice hitched as her tears started to flow again, the accompanying shock her body was experiencing making it doubly hard to keep functioning. She leaned heavily on one of the trees as she reached the forest, resting her pained head on her arm, the pain radiating from her heart and soul becoming very difficult to stay lucid. Bulma was suffocating under the weight of a broken heart, being rejected by the man she'd fallen in love with. At this, something strange happened.

"Bulma" a strange wispy voice echoed around the blue haired angel. With wide, frightened eyes, she looked wildly around and willed herself to run, to flee from now an unseen danger. She should've called out for help, but who would've helped her? Vegeta? The one…she was running from? She didn't know which was worse; running from an unknown threat or from him, knowing that calling out would only invite more pain, ridicule and taunts, something that was just too much for a damaged soul to take at this time.

"Bulma, Bulma stop. I'm not your enemy; I'm here to help you. I know you're tired, alone, scared…and very hurt. Come to me, I'll protect you, I'll take away all the pain…" the voice whispered in her ear.

"Who are you? What do you want from me?" Bulma sobbed quietly as she kept stumbling blindly through the forest. She didn't know how long she'd been running, or how far she was now from Capsule Corp, how far away she was from him, though the pain in her chest seemed as if she wasn't very far. The thick, dense canopy above hid the moon and the stars from her, making it difficult to see where she was going, but she kept running, although she was very tired, exhausted mentally, physically, suffering enormously from all of the pain.

"Bulma…it's me, the part of yourself that's tried to protect you, but…you've not listened to what I've said. Now look what's happened" the tiny voice admonished " one man physically abused you and the other…" even the small voice didn't want to give rise to anything regarding Vegeta. The allusion to him brought the pain back with a vengeance and deepened the sorrow and despair, enveloping and crushing her. She was growing weaker and extremely tired, the cold adding to her misery. She wrapped her lab coat around her and decided to rest under a large oak tree as she broke through the forest reaching a little clearing.

"Bulma, if you come with me, I'll protect you" it soothingly said "Just come inside to me, I promise, no one will find you, no one will ever hurt you again."

"I'm tired, so tired…maybe…maybe I should listen…" it's not like there's anything for me here anymore, no one will care or notice I'm gone. More tears. Staring off in the distance to nothing in particular, she surrendered. The promise of protection and losing the sorrow and despair becoming the only goal to look forward to now.

And then it happened, she let herself go, the darkness took her, wrapping her in it's veil of numbness, reality becoming a distant memory and then, she was gone.


	6. Pain In Understanding

**Disclaimer: Yup, I don't own DBZ. Phooey. **

**A/N: Yay! I have time again to think and write! My sales, marketing and big cheeses from across the pond…have gone back across the pond! Now, it's just regular stress, lol. ****THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU to everyone again for being patient and for reading my stories! The next to be updated with be CSI: Satan City and Oh Bulma! It Was Just A Dream! Hopefully in the next week! Yay! You all rock, preciousjade76 and Cara2012…you both are so awesomely sweet, thank you so much! Please let me know if this is ok, r/r, thanks again! :)**

**Chapter 6:**** Pain in Understanding**

"Goku, what's wrong with her?" Tears gathered in Chi Chi's eyes, freely falling from her face "Is she…is she…"

"No! No, she's not, Chi, Chi." Goku cut her off, his pain clearly evident in his eyes "I don't know what's happened to her, but…she's there…somewhere, very deep inside, very, very far away." The young man answered sadly.

"But…why? And why can't you reach her? You're a Saiyan, Goku, I know damn well you are telepathic, I know you'd spoken to me or Gohan, like just now! Why can't you reach her?" Goku looked into the dark eyes of his mate, the worry and fear that was etched in hers mirrored his own sense of terror.

"Because I'm not bonded to her, Chi Chi, not like I am to you or Gohan." He stroked her face lightly, lovingly thumbing her lips "Other than that, only another person who's a telepath will I be able to talk to them. Bulma is my sister. She practically raised me and you know she has a very special place in my heart, but not to the extent of that which I only have with you and Gohan."

"Oh" was all she could say. In the quiet solitude of the mountain home, the world outside was alive with the soft murmurings of life, a lone owl hooting, heralding his arrival to all that was his prey below. The stream near their humble home was gurgling, alive with the creatures that called the tranquil stream home. The moon shone brightly over the entire mountain that was the Son's home, a huge night light against the immense expanse of the heavens. A lone wolf, calling for his pack, beseeched an answer to his call from the moon, his cry filled with need and desperation to find those of his kind.

Goku added another log to the hearth, warming his little home, bathing his family in a blanket of warmth and love. Chi Chi had ushered their adolescent son to bed, the lateness and excitement of the evening having been plainly visible upon Gohan's young face, dark circles beginning to form, his countenance steadily waning as the evening stretched on. Normally putting up complaints that he was not tired, Gohan wordlessly followed his mother's orders, the strength depleted and only weariness residing on the young man's shoulders.

Chi Chi came back into the living room. Tucking in her son hadn't been a problem at all tonight, not that she did that anymore considering his age, but the whiney protests were still there and still fought. She had followed Gohan's heavy labored steps and watched as he'd left a trail of clothes as he made his way to his bed, shaking her head as she'd scooped down to pick up after her son. One look into his face made her decide that this one time only, she'd bite her tongue and not chastise him for it. All she did was stand by her son's bed and watched for a moment as his eyelids drooped mercifully and plant a kiss onto his forehead, silently thanking Kami for what she had, a son she would die for and a husband she loved, even if to the outside world it seemed she didn't. What mattered was if Goku knew how much loved him, and Goku knew, never doubting it once.

Bulma lay on the couch, a portrait of tranquility, her chest softly rising and falling with each breath she took. As Chi Chi walked toward Goku, he opened his arms to his wife and held her tightly as she stepped into his arms, her small hands encircling around his body, and settled lightly at the small of his back, trying to comfort him as best she could. They both were at a loss as to how to help the blue-haired beauty, as they stared helplessly at her.

"What do you think happened, Goku?"

"I don't know. With all the training we've been doing, maybe she felt so neglected by us. I don't know what to make of this."

"…have you…I know you said you can't communicate with her telepathically, Goku" his wife lifted her head from his chest, her eyes shining with barely repressed tears "but…can you see her? I mean…you seem to be able to do anything, Goku, when you put your mind to it…why not try to 'see' what happened? Or…where she might be?"

Goku looked at Chi Chi. Could he? It's never been done before 'well, other than Kami, hell I don't know if Piccolo's able to do it, probably wouldn't tell me' but his wife did have a point; sometimes, it seemed that Goku _knew_ things that he shouldn't really know, especially if it didn't involve him.

'_Yes, Goku…you can'_ the ghostly whisper of Kami answered him _'it will not make you happy…to see what has happened…there is so much pain…so much anguish within her…but…she is on the verge of death, Goku…and the future will be lost if she dies…'_

'_Kami no! Please don't say that!'_ Goku pleaded, Chi Chi suddenly alarmed as a tear fell from his eyes.

"Goku! Goku what's wrong? What's the matter?"

"Ssh, I'm ok, Chi. Kami…Kami just confirmed what you thought. I may not be able to communicate with her…but I can see what's happened to her." He squeezed his wife gently, placing a kiss at the top of her head, lingering there, his eyes closed, thankful for the love that he has in his arms and down the hall. A life without them…he could not imagine how he could live on if they weren't there. The fire crackled and gently popped behind them, soothing the distressed household as Goku released his wife, striding to the small, pale creature barely alive in their home. The tall, imposing young man bent over the woman whom he'd first loved and brushed a few wisps of her hair aside, caressing her forehead lightly as his fingers gently opened her lids, blue, sightless orbs, staring vacantly back into the young warrior's pained eyes. Instinctively, Goku hovered over her, placing his gaze directly into her face, concentrating…and he felt himself suddenly spiraling away from his home, deeper and deeper away, until the outside world was no longer. Chi Chi could see that Goku was no longer there, he had delved deep into their friend's mind, his breathing barely noticeable, his gaze never wavering as two sets of eyes stared sightlessly back at each other.

"Bulma…hang on, Goku's on his way, please, please hold on." The words whispered fearfully out of Chi Chi's lips, standing close by should either one need her. Goku could hear his wife's fervent plea, the sound of fear and desperation clearly in her voice. He was falling, spiraling down into the darkness that was not his own. Flashes of her childhood, her memories, began to wiz by him, almost too fast for him to fully register, as if in a dream, he felt his gaze slowly drift down, and he could see his hands glowing, his body the only thing able to be seen in the blackness that surrounded him. More memories flitted by, but these slowed down, enough for him to see, and he felt the tug of a smile at the corners of his mouth, for these were the fun, warm, happy memories of theirs, the ones he loved and cherished with all of his heart. He smiled at the quite young version of himself, in his little gi, and his brown, furry tail, that looked at wistfully, wishing he still had it. He heard his voice utter a nostalgic laugh and felt the heat pool in his cheeks, blushing, as he saw the confusion on his younger self, wondering why a very young wisp of a girl didn't have a tail like him when he'd looked under her skirt. Their adventures together, searching for the dragonballs, fighting the Red Ribbon Army, the time that Bulma was in a bunny costume…all these happy memories slowing down, just for him, as if some part of Bulma knew Goku was in her, and she was sharing her treasured memories with him.

'Hang on, Bulma. Please. I can't lose you, I can't lose my best friend.' The sadness washed over him, wishing that she was there with him, suddenly, he was jerked in another direction violently, and more empty blackness greeted him. After a time, another series of memories flashed before him…and he was beyond pissed.

An enormous frown and extreme anger lit his being, as her relationship with Yamcha came at him. They started innocently, again from their childhood, the first time he and Bulma met the young, timid warrior, the desert bandit who seemed more afraid of girls than being caught by the law.

And then…and then he saw that Yamcha no longer feared girls…far from it. Through her eyes, her memories, he saw Yamcha with other women, his deception and attempts to lie, right in her face, even after being confronted with the plain transparency of his affairs while he supposedly was only seeing her. The many fights they had…the many times he walked out on her, leaving her in a pool of tears on the floor.

The times…he'd hit her.

Those memories, fresh, raw, blazingly painful, stopped in a dead stop right in front of Goku.

"_But baby, I swear, I wasn't with another girl, you're crazy! I only have eyes for you!"_

"_Oh shut the fuck up, Yamcha! Do you really think I'm that fucking stupid or blind? Are you going to tell me that this" _a pair of red, lace panties were whipped out, held by the tip of a pencil "_belongs to your 'cousin'….who doesn't even fucking exist? You're really more of a fucking moron than I thought!"_

SLAP

Goku flinched as if he'd been at the receiving end of that and growled angrily, as he watched helplessly as her vision became askew, the ground coming to meet Bulma unevenly. Anger could not begin to touch what Goku was feeling. Horrified, he saw not just that slap…but a backhanded fist connect with her jaw, the sickening splintering of bone reverberating all around Goku as he tumbled sideways, violently, pain flashing around him as her head met the ground painfully.

"_Fine! I had a bitch over, and you know what? It felt that damn good, she rode me real good, Bulma, it felt so good ramming my cock into such a pretty pussy…more than what I can say about you, you frigid, ungrateful old hag! You should be grateful I stick around, you fucking bitch…because it definitely isn't for the fucking!"_ Goku snarled loudly as Bulma was kicked violently, feeling her horror and pain as she lay defenseless on the floor as Yamcha spit on her before turning to casually leave her home.

"Oh God, Bulma. Why didn't you tell me? Why didn't you call out for Vegeta? Where the fuck was he?" His eyes blazed with an anger so deep, deeper than when Frieza had ruthlessly killed Krillin in front of his eyes for no reason on Nameck. Sickly, he saw Bulma crawl painfully on her hands and knees, slowly climbing the staircase towards her room. In the darkness, she pitifully dragged herself into her bathroom and shock overwhelmed him as he stared at the woman staring back at the atrocious sight of the woman in the mirror.

Her jaw was hanging limply on one side. Her left eye closed, purple, swollen, bigger than a grapefruit. The right side of her temple, a humongous knot sticking out underneath limp and lifeless delicate blue strands. Goku had never been more horrified than at that moment in his entire life. The pain, guilt and anguish he felt at not being there for one of the women he loved with all of his heart…

"Bulma, why, why didn't you reach out to me? Oh God, Bulma…"

"_No one must know. Not Goku…I am not going to involve him, put him in the middle. He doesn't deserve this kind of pain."_ He heard her whisper to the broken woman in the mirror.

"And neither do you, Bulma." Goku uttered sadly.

It was all Goku could do to stay in control, having to remind himself that he was watching the past, and that he was in the extremely frail mind of a very broken woman, lest he cause more damage than had already been done.

"You better be enjoying your days now, Yamcha. Because when I get out…these will be your last." Goku's jaw set angrily, his whole being shuddering, the anger in him so great, he didn't even notice he was illuminating the darkness in a golden glow, he'd become a Super Saiyan inside of her mind. His anger so great, it was threatening to overwhelm him, and he physically had to force himself to calm down.

Again, Goku was pushed to another memory, and this was worse than the first. This time, the tables had been turned, and Yamcha was accusing her of sleeping with Vegeta…Goku was laying on his side, seeing through Bulma's eyes the blood around her head, her beautiful hair marred with her blood, turning the strands a sickly shade of violet. Yamcha was towering above her, screaming, accusing, as Bulma vainly attempted to protect herself, desperately hoping he would stop, wishing the fetal position she curled into would abate and deflect his blows. Goku heaved and breathed painfully, the desperate pleas of mercy ringing through his soul, her horrific cries of pain bouncing all around him, until blackness encompassed him, signifying her body's surrender to the overwhelming pain.

Goku closed his eyes. Tears rimming them, gathering on his lashes. He wasn't there for her. He let her down. No one had been there for her to rescue her, to save her. She'd had to endure this pain and torture silently, alone.

He had let her fall. He'd broken his promise from long ago, to always be there for her. When she needed him the most…he wasn't there.

Another memory made itself known…and Goku inhaled sharply. Goku grimaced as he expected Yamcha's hand, again, connect with her face…but his jaw dropped as Yamcha's hand didn't do more than barely register on her face…because a large hand intercepted it before it caused any damage. Incredulously, he followed Bulma's gaze as she followed it from the hand, to the heavily-muscled arm, to the sharp angles of a face of one very pissed off, flame-haired, Saiyan prince. Vegeta's eyes were smoldering, not with hate or disgust…but with a look Goku was quite familiar with. Love. An unusually soft look shadowed the onyx orbs of the extremely intimidating warrior as he gazed at Bulma.

"Finally." Goku muttered, he didn't know how many times he'd be allowed to kill Yamcha, glad for the fact Vegeta had finally rescued his beloved sister. The whole scene played out for him, feeling Bulma's immense shock…and unending gratitude at having been saved from another savage assault. The incredulous look on Yamcha's face as the ploy that Vegeta and Bulma unspokenly played was replayed for Goku, who blushed as the two future, star-crossed lovers kissed…and lovingly caressed each other much to Yamcha's chagrin.

And then, he saw it. Saw the rejection that sent his best friend into a deep, silent well of despair as he shrugged her off mercilessly. He grimaced at Bulma's attempt to save face, and marveled at the young, frail Earthling's audacity as she lay claim to Vegeta, to fearlessly look him in the eye…and make it look like she was on top…despite Goku knowing now, the pain she was feeling internally. His heart reached out to her as her whispered words echoed all around him _"too good to be true…"_

"Goddamit, Vegeta. Why did you fuck it up? Why must you reject her…when she clearly….loves you?" A heavy, disappointed sigh escaped the young warrior's lips as he closed his eyes and shook his head.

He saw Bulma for the next few weeks, putting up a brave front, trying to show the world…and one in particular Saiyan prince, that she was fine, that his rejections had no meaning or consequence to her. Her intelligence and wit comparable to no one, and she demonstrated that day in and day out, her many battles with the always surly prince even after his rejection.

But as he suspected, and saw with his own eyes…Bulma was fragile, and behind closed doors he saw her, silently weeping, feeling her heart break with each dawn of a new day, a little bit of her dying silently. All Goku could do was close his eyes again, wishing he'd not forgotten the very people he'd vowed to protect.

And then…tonight's memories.

Goku watched with rapt attention as the scene played before him, the house dark and silent as she wearily climbed the stairs, her feet softly shuffling. He saw her shiver slightly as a door at the far end of the opposite hall from her room creaked, almost imperceptibly, but just enough to cause Bulma to turn…and head down in that direction.

"I wonder if that's…"

He never finished his sentence, he didn't need to for his suspicions were proven correctly. It was Vegeta's room. A thin sliver of moonlight spilled through the crack of Vegeta's door and he saw her drawn to his room, feeling her trepidation as she slowly pushed his door open. Silently, the softly billowing sheer curtains that adorned the door to his balcony beckoned to Bulma, and Goku felt the anxiety build in her, just as it was building in him. He knew that whatever caused Bulma's condition happened here. Tonight.

And it wasn't going to be pretty.

Unlike Bulma, Goku was bracing himself, knowing how Vegeta could truly be the most callous and cruel, a second nature thing with him. He was standing there. He heard Bulma's thoughts, of wonder and awe as she beheld the young prince, and felt the warmth of love for the sour, stunning beauty. Goku could feel the desire and longing that Bulma quietly suffered silently with radiating as she approached him. Her need…was not just of want, but an actual need that only Vegeta could fill, and Goku could feel it. He witnessed her lightly touch his arm, the barest of touches sending rampant shivers of ecstasy through her at having touched him, which brought Vegeta out of his engrossed reverie. His eyes focused on hers, and Goku could see something that he'd never seen before (and rightfully so)…the exact same need mirrored in Vegeta's eyes. His hand so soft, lightly grasping the tiny, blue-haired beauty, as he captured her chin and brought her closer to him, as he hypnotized her. Goku blushed and turned away…definitely weird to basically be kissing Vegeta, but for Bulma, he'd do anything.

"Well, kissing a very proud, irritatingly competitive Saiyan prince of a dying race can definitely be crossed off my list…"

_"What are you doing here, Onna?"_

_"I, uh, um, there was a light I saw from the hall, coming from your room, and…"_

_"And what? __There's no business that you have being here. So what if there was a light coming from my room? You have absolutely no business…no fucking right to be around me. To infect me with the disease that is you."_

"Oh God, Vegeta…"

_"You are nothing but a nosy, annoying, irritating, self-righteous, spoiled, conniving brat. Constantly sticking your nose in my business, where it absolutely has no business being. This compound that you and your family have flaunted to everyone on this miserable planet is large enough to separate your wretched self from my presence. Yet you always seem to be in my way, in my vicinity. I never asked for your help. Never asked or insinuated or hinted of needing your "hospitality". Your damned gravity room has nothing to offer me. It hasn't made me into the Super Saiyan that I rightfully deserve. I'm still second to that miserable example of a third class idiot. You're useless, a pointless footnote that is unfortunately in my life right now."_

"Oh Kami, Vegeta, what have you done?" Goku whispered painfully. All around him, Goku could feel the immense pain and despair his words had on her. Devastated, shattered, torn to shreds were mild things to say. Vegeta had completely and utterly broken her.

And then…he saw her. The vivacious, always lively, beautiful woman he'd always known, off in the distance, suspended in the air, curled in the same fetal position he found her physical self, surrounded by an invisible thick wall, Goku's heart throbbing painfully as he watched her unconsciously weeping silently.

She had bonded unknowingly to Vegeta, and is now suffering…dying, because of his brutal rejection. In her pain…Goku finally understood.

And again, was powerless to help the one he loved.


	7. Day Of Reckoning

**Disclaimer: Yup, I don't own DBZ. Phooey. :(**

**A/N: Someone's in a bit of trouble…**

**A/N: Please r/r, and thank you everyone for all the reviews! :) **

**Chapter 7:**** Day Of Reckoning**

"Hey Goku! Wha…" Yamcha wasn't able to finish greeting his old friend, because his old friend had given him a fist sandwich, that was followed with an enormously painful kick to the stomach, causing the tall, scarred warrior to double over in surprise and pain, his arms immediately covering his midsection in attempt to protect it. Yamcha raised his head as he looked up, wheezily sucking in air, well at least as much as his body could handle, his eyes larger than dinner plates as he looked up stunned, into the eyes of the strongest fighter in the universe. The young, happy-go-lucky, easy going man that Yamcha had grown up with was not standing before him, in his place stood a very pissed, vastly powerful warrior, capable of breaking Yamcha in two with just a breath.

And that's exactly what the man before him was going to do.

"What the fuck was that for, Goku! Have you lost your mind!" His only answer was a sinister snarl and another kick, his balls exploding, blind, white-hot needles of pain shooting to all parts of his body as the force of the kick caused him to fly upwards into his ceiling, plaster and debris raining down on him as he landed heavily, the crunching broken bones mingling with his groans of excruciating pain. Blood left his lips as he coughed, his eyes glazed over in pain as he lay on his side, his hands in between his legs where his manhood once had been, hurt clearly visible in his eyes as he looked up at the enraged Saiyan.

" 'You should be grateful I stick around, you fucking bitch, because it definitely isn't for the fucking!' Ring a bell, you fucking bastard?" Yamcha stopped breathing as the words hit him, he could only stare horrified at the younger warrior, knowing that to say Goku was pissed was a vast understatement. 'Fuck! The bitch told him!' He tried backing away as Goku advanced, his back connecting heavily with the wall, further escape was not going to happen.

Not that he had a chance in hell of doing so anyway.

The look in Goku's eyes was something he'd seen once before, a cold, callous and merciless look, that he'd only seen in Vegeta. Even in the heat of battle, Goku never looked or acted as such, there was still an air of mercy about him. That was not present at all today. All Yamcha saw was hatred and pure anger…that was frighteningly directed at him.

"Goku, wait, please let me explain!" The words were slurred out, Yamcha's hands were raised in front of him as Goku suddenly stopped, towering menacingly above him, every muscle in his body taut, ready for any movement to spring them into action. He saw Goku's eyes change into an even darker color as Yamcha's words hit him, and the deadly calm with which he spoke with told Yamcha that had not been the best thing to say at all.

"Explain? Let you explain? What could you possibly say to me that would 'explain' beating the shit out of her, Yamcha! Tell me you fucking asshole!" The scarred warrior cowered further down into the floor as his mouth moved, but he was unable to say anything, completely at a loss as to what he could say that would placate the enraged Saiyan.

What could he say to save his life?

His attention diverted, he didn't see the fury that had twisted Goku's face, completely unrecognizable from the gentle man he knew. Grabbing his neck, Goku squeezed, a vice like grip that nothing in the universe could get off of, save for Goku's own mercy. Yamcha's legs flailed in the air wildly as he was lifted off the ground, his hands immediately flying to grasp the large hands tightening around his neck, desperately grasping and clawing at them to release him. The pain in his groin throbbing incessantly, blood not ebbing as it flowed down from his broken nose, a fine mist being vaporized out as he tried desperately to breathe. His windpipe was being crushed, he could feel his muscles violently contracting, the need for air kicking his body's autonomic response into a full fledge 911 emergency.

"Ugh…p…please…please, Go….Goku…" Yamcha began pleading for his life, terror in his eyes. The rage that was swirling in a tempest in Goku's eyes was frightening, and the rage was building. Yamcha's plea only managed to anger Goku more, and his hand tightened exponentially around his neck, his pleading having a completely opposite effect on the enraged Saiyan. Goku started to levitate out of the house, dragging Yamcha along with him, the angry Saiyan rising higher and higher into the heavens above, the moon shadowing natural depressions and crevices in his face, giving Goku a bone chillingly appalling look as he cruelly smiled at Yamcha. He was dying, the air that was being kept from him changing his face from red to blue to purple and now, to a disturbingly deathly grey pallor. In his semiconscious state, he could see the cruel sneer that curled Goku's lips, vicious and cold.

"Please? You actually dare to beg me for mercy, Yamcha?" Goku whispered so quietly and with such spite, his blood ran cold "How many times did Bulma beg for mercy, huh, Yamcha? How many?" He threw him back to the earth, dirt and concrete being ejected out as a large crater formed around Yamcha's broken body. Goku followed and lifted the broken warrior again, fists and knees connecting with soft, pliable flesh, bones breaking, the sound of Yamcha's sternum echoing out loudly in the quiet darkness, the pain from the splintered shards of bone like shrapnel to his sensitive organs, hundreds of tiny little knives piercing his fragile organs. More blood spilt from his lips, sprayed on everywhere, especially on the pissed off Saiyan that held him, completely unfazed by the pitiful sight in his hands.

"I asked you a question, you bastard! How many times did she beg for mercy, goddammit?" He screamed at the man who used to be his friend, whom he'd considered akin to family, but after what he saw, what he felt from her, after what happened to Bulma…there wasn't a snowball's chance in hell of him ever considering the scarred warrior a friend ever again.

"Fuckin' a Yamcha! I'll tell you how many times! Forty, you fuckin' prick! You wanna know HOW I know?" He stopped screaming and suddenly pulled him close, seeing that comprehension and consciousness was still there, Goku's eyes boring a hole into him, the fear from Yamcha clearly emanating from him "because she's comatose in my house right now, Yamcha. Not because of you, but because of someone else. And so I went into her mind, to try to find her, to bring her back…and guess what I saw? All of what you did to her, all of what you've said to her! How could you fuckin' treat her like that? And throughout all of that, she still didn't say anything to me! She suffered at your hands in silence, you prick! Because she didn't want ME to get hurt! But rest assured, Yamcha" Thoroughly disgusted, he threw the barely alive warrior back to the ground, the wall of the house shuddering as pieces of it fell on Yamcha. Goku followed and loomed over the broken warrior, lingering a bit before he picked him up again, Yamcha's faint whimpers of pain having no effect on him as he bent and whispered chillingly in his ear "I won't be the only one to make you pay for what you've done to her." A frighteningly feral look passed over Goku, and through the haze of pain, the next words from Goku made his blood run cold.

"Once I have a talk with him…I'll be back…to see Vegeta say hello to you too." With a flick of his wrist, Goku threw the hapless warrior into the rosebushes surrounding his property, breaking his fall, though the pain from the thorns didn't provide any comfort at all. Goku snorted in disgust and watched as Yamcha moaned pitifully in agony. He had wanted to kill him, he was so desperately was close to it, but he just couldn't do it. There was something that held him back, but as he shook his head at himself as he lifted into the sky, a slow grin graced his lips as the reason dawned on him.

Vegeta.

He took off into the night sky in search of the ill-tempered prince.

Chi Chi was horrified when Goku returned and told her what he saw, tears of sorrow and regret falling down her face. Why hadn't she pressed Bulma further? Why had she just let her be? That was no way to be a friend! What kind of a woman was she? She had let her down, was not there for her, and the guilt she felt wracked her to the core, falling to her knees, sobbing uncontrollably into her hands. Goku had gathered her in his arms, the guilt they both felt at not being there for her when she needed them the most…

"Chi Chi, please stop. I feel horrible as well, but there's nothing we can do now. What's done is done. We cannot go back and change that." He lifter her chin, brushing the tears off of her face, his fingers caressing her. He didn't know what he'd do if someone had ever treated her that way, losing it would be putting it mildly. Goku kissed her forehead, each eye, her nose, her cheeks, claiming her lips finally in a long, deeply emotional kiss, tasting her tears, the tears that she shed for both of them.

"I'm going out for a bit, ok Chi? I have to say hello to someone." Chi Chi opened her eyes, the look he was giving her could only mean one thing.

It was going to be Yamcha's day of reckoning.

"Please say hello for me as well, Goku."

Chi Chi tucked the blanket around Bulma's cold body and sighed, the fire crackling quietly in the hearth. She didn't know how long she sat there, just hoping and praying that Bulma would wake up, that she would return to the world of the living.

"Mom." The sound of Gohan's voice broke the spell she was under, and Chi Chi snapped up to see her young son standing in the hallway, a look of complete apprehension visible in his eyes, his body tense, as he stared unblinkingly at their front door.

"Gohan, what are you doing up? What's the matter?"

"Vegeta's outside." Chi Chi froze, a lump suddenly appearing as she too turned to the door. She had never been afraid of the surly prince, and from what Goku had said, he was more bark than bite now. But that didn't quell the fear that gripped the room. Bulma's quiet breathing the only discernible noise in the terrifyingly hushed home. No one knew what his reaction would be tonight, not after all that's happened.

But they were going to find out.

"Oh Goku. Where are you?"


	8. Stubborn Is An Understatement

**Disclaimer: Hahahaha! DBZ is mine, you hear me? All mine! Psyche! Just kidding! ;P**

**A/N: Ahhha! Please don't throw the tomatoes! I'M VERY VERY SORRY for not updating sooner…sh*t just happens…and well 'you either get busy livin…or get busy dyin' (to quote the great Morgan Freeman in The Shawshank Redemption). I promise to update sooner, no, I have not given up on any of my stories..although with CSI, I am experiencing a bit of a writer's block…I know where I'm going with that, I can see it…but it's the journey that's a little murky right now. But, I do like all my stories…I actually have more floating in my head…buuut…I think I better concentrate on these puppies first before those, eh? ;)**

**A/N2: To cherryvampiress and preciousjade76…you guys have been the best and awesomest readers of my stories, thank you very, very much (and cherryvampiress…I LOVED your comment about Goku! He finally had to snap, in my opinion, and I have a feeling if this happened to your best friend…well, I'm sure I'll be reading about them in the newspapers! ;) . Myztic Aura…nope, laugh as hard as you want…it's only gonna get worse for Yamcha in the future…there's still a certain, hot, sexy, supremely bad boy prince that's yet to see what he's done…hehehehe. ;) With respect to Goku…I'm not going to portray him as most do or as it seems in the series. I respect him a bit more, I feel…that he's not as obtuse as everyone thinks he is, and I'm going to actively try to show that. Thank you again for all the awesome reviews, THANK YOU SOOO MUCH for being patient, I promise not to make you wait so long (I hope!) again. Please r/r…THANK YOU! **

**A/N3: Oh! Almost forgot! I did create just a few words, here's the translation: Shin-ko(husband, mate), Shin-ha(wife, mate), Shin-yo(son), Shin-ya(daughter…although this won't apply. )**

**Chapter8: Stubborn Is An Understatement…**

"What is she doing here, Kakkarot?" The Saiyan Prince growled out through gritted teeth, his arms crossed imposingly over his chest.

To say he was surprised to discover she was here was a complete understatement…considering the distance between the third class's home from Capsule Corp, and on foot, the distance would have been impossible for her to traverse in such a short period of time.

The clown had teleported her here. Why?

"Why do you care, Vegeta?" The taunt and anger in Goku's voice was completely out of character for him, and the startled look on Vegeta's face made that very clear, completely taken aback by the anger radiating off of his rival standing in front of his home.

Unless…he knew what had happened between them earlier…

"So…the woman came running here and told you, huh?" Vegeta humphed "Well…she deserved it. She has no right to invade my life! If it weren't for the damned tin cans, I'd have blasted her a long time ago…even before you!" The haughty, princely nose turned up to the side, arrogance and attitude definitely not lost on the young warrior.

But given what has been happening to his best and oldest friend, Goku's patience was dangerously close to snapping.

"You fucking bastard. You have no idea, do you?" The ominous, quietly uttered phrase shocked Vegeta to the core, his eyelids flying open, arms suddenly falling to his side, dangling limply as he stared at Goku. There was something that had happened, something upsetting enough that the normally placid, happy, gentle warrior was nowhere to be seen just then. Only an extremely pissed, vastly powerful warrior, who was seething with fury and barely keeping his cool intact.

Vegeta hardened his gaze as he regained his composure, the moonlight caressing both warriors, a soft, silken light that defined and highlighted every muscle, every sinew in their bodies, whether in a loose-fitting, flowing, orange gi or a snug, royal blue, spandex training bodysuit. As he looked closer, he noticed the blood and dirt that covered the front of Goku's outfit, the torn corner of one shoulder, the smell of dried sweat on him. Vegeta scowled even further at the blood trails running up and down his arms and across the top of his chest. Something…had definitely happened, and the alarm bells going off in his whole being was not sitting well with the scowling prince.

"No idea about what, Kakkarot? Why don't you enlighten me?" An equally soft, ominously uttered question escaped his lips, his ebony eyes glittering dangerously back at his young counterpart. "Why is the woman here, Kakkarot…and why isn't she coming out?"

"She can't, Vegeta. She's in a very far away place right now." Goku's eyes dropped to the ground and his expression changed suddenly. Vegeta's eyes widened as he observed the sorrow and pain in his eyes, his rival's eyes quickly becoming glassy, tears threatening to brim at the corner of his eyes, the despair and worry rolling off of him in waves.

The strange, unwelcomed feeling that had abruptly shown itself earlier that evening had suddenly sharpened and become intense, something that was not sitting well with the Saiyan Prince.

And…Goku's demeanor….all seemed to be connected to the woman…

Bulma.

Vegeta scowled even further and opened his senses, searching for Bulma's ki. He knew she was inside the home with Kakkarot's mate and half-breed son, her distinctly unique and highly pleasant lilac and gardenia-like scent verified that she was inside the home. His eyes doubled in size as he suddenly took an abrupt intake of air. Why was her ki…fluctuating and so…low? Even for her, this was very unusual, and not wanting to admit it to himself, had him very, very concerned.

Why?

The look in Goku's eyes told him of the grim reality, that indeed what he sensed was true, and the blue-haired female who'd been constantly on his mind in the past few months…against his pride's will…was in a great deal of pain.

Pain, that the proud, obstinate, ornery prince realized was caused by him. The knowledge of that…broke something in him, and he took no pleasure in the knowledge of causing her pain. For the first time in his life, he experienced a totally foreign emotion…and he didn't like it one bit.

Remorse.

"…She's in a coma, Vegeta. And we're…worried about her."

Both men looked towards the doorway, a young man protecting the entrance to his home, and the women inside, the light from the hearth from the fireplace in the distance illuminating Son Gohan. A sad, small smile touched the corner of Goku's mouth, as his young son was rapidly becoming a strong, young man right before his eyes, quietly helping his father to protect his mother, his friend and his home.

"…What did you say, boy?" A strangled whisper left Vegeta as he struggled to process what Gohan and Goku had just revealed. Coma? Far away? Had he caused her so much pain… that she's now suffering because of him?

"He's right, Vegeta. She's…withdrawn into herself, almost completely shut down, given up, trying to protect herself. Trying…to stop the pain of a broken heart." Goku closed his eyes and sighed heavily. The memory of all that he saw, tearing him apart, his anger at the brutality of her attacks from Yamcha, it was all he could do to not fall apart in front of the stunned prince.

"I saw what happened between you two, Vegeta…all of it." It struck Vegeta dead on, the truth that he could clearly see in Goku's eyes "Everything, Vegeta."

"Your rejection of her…cut her very deeply Vegeta. It was the last straw." Softly spoken words that rocked him to the core, a fine almost imperceptible tremor shooting through his whole body.

"Vegeta…whether you want to see it or not, she's in love with you" Goku's eyes opened as he beheld the Saiyan Prince, watching the emotions rapidly flash through the normally cold warrior "She has been for a very long time."

"So? What does that matter to me? If she has foolishly developed feelings for me, that is not my fuckin' fault! I have never once cared about the foolish antics and activities of that woman! And if telling her the truth earlier hurt her pathetic feelings, so what? I don't care!" Goku snarled in frustration as Vegeta turned around, crossing his arms, defiant and staunch in his denial.

"Wake up, you fucking prick! Bulma. Is. In. Love. With. You! Stop denying the fact…the truth, for Kami's sake!…that You. Are. Too!" Goku's pain and anger came exploding out, his whole body shaking with the force of it that consumed him. Chi Chi came running out, her hand flying to her mouth, trying to stifle her frightened gasp stopping just behind Gohan who put a reassuring arm around his mother's small frame.

Chi Chi looked down at her son, the same furious expression clearly visible in her son's face, the anger also radiating off of Gohan dangerously. But Gohan was keeping his temper in check, unlike his father, the human blood that came from her tempering the incensed, raging Saiyan that came from his father, albeit a human mother with impressive fighting skills of her own and a fiery disposition that could make the greatest fighter in the universe run and hide in fear. Her son was holding her as his father exploded, protecting her from any possible threat to their home or their person.

Even if the threat came from his own father.

Vegeta whirled around. How dare he! How dare this third class dare to voice the hidden, unwanted truth that had been gnawing at him for who-knows-how-long!

He recoiled suddenly, his eyes bugged out, mouth dropping in shock, stumbling back, almost falling backward over the moss-covered stone behind him. WHAT! What the…

"You know I'm right, Vegeta. I've seen it in your eyes, even though you think you've hidden it well…even from yourself." The hairs settled back down over Goku's body, his aura once again quieting as the words were softly spoken. The shock as the sudden epiphany slapped Vegeta was more than enough to settle the young warrior, though he knew the Saiyan Prince would need to be further convinced and even then, would still battle this realization to the bitter end.

"She's been in love you with, for a very long time. From all I'd seen in her mind, she tried just as hard…if not harder than you, to deny, erase her feelings for you. But with all that was happening with him…" Vegeta noticed the sudden turn in Goku's face, his voice, so much so that although he knew who Goku was referring to…giving voice to his name incensed the normally gentle warrior to no end.

Why?

"It's enough to say, Vegeta…no matter how much of an ingrate, a prick, you've been to her and her family, you were still the only one to treat her as a woman, as someone who could go toe-to-toe with her intellect, her wit…as well as have as enormous an ego as she does." Goku wryly laughed, they really did belong together, no one else could put up with them. The hard part now…was convincing Vegeta to take the blinders off.

Goku grimaced, wishing he was told to move Mt. Everest instead.

The crickets were the only things that could be heard at Son Goku's home. Even the owls and forlorn coyotes had silenced. All seemed to be holding their breaths, waiting for the surly warrior to respond to all that Goku had said. Goku saw out of the corners of his eye Chi Chi shivering slightly, the nippy, chill air beginning to cover his mate in a cold cape. He moved back towards his family, gently squeezing his son's shoulder and taking his mate into his arms, wrapping his arms around her, holding her close as he gently flared his ki to keep her warm. Chi Chi sighed contentedly, resting her head on his chest, a ghost of a smile shadowing the powerful warrior's face.

"…Why…are you unable to utter the weakling's name, Kakkarot?" Vegeta's brows furrowed deeper, his eyes becoming mere slits as he closely regarded Goku's face "After all, baka, isn't he your friend?"

"Was. Vegeta. Was." Goku looked away, but his whole body tensed, muscles all of a sudden protruding, straining against smooth, tanned skin, his jaw clenching and unclenching as memories of what he witnessed once again, flooded him.

"What are you not telling me, Kakkarot? What happened to the woman?"

"That time you interfered…her being hit…" Vegeta's jaw suddenly clenched in anger as well, seeing the fist heading for her sent him into an absolute rage as he recalled the memory, again, furious at the image as it replayed "…It wasn't the only time it happened, Vegeta." Goku let the weight of his words sink in, realizing the young prince must have thought that was the first and only time Yamcha had attempted anything like that.

"…You mean…"

"There were a couple of times…" Vegeta was floored, Kakkarot's mate began to cry, Gohan and Goku…both hung their heads in shame, looking away…told him all he needed to know.

"…Wh…why…how…" Vegeta sputtered, truly unable to form a coherent sentence. All of a sudden, such a swirl of anger, one that he'd never felt before began to fill him from deep inside that he had never known existed.

"…Do you want to see what I saw, Vegeta?" The abruptness of his question caught Vegeta by surprise. He was already speechless, shocked, angered, confused…could curiosity be added to the mix, knowing what lay ahead?

Well, it didn't kill the cat for no reason.

"Do you know how, Kakkorot? Or am I going to have to show you yet again, what a true Saiyan can do?" Goku snorted in disgust as he heard the sarcasm-laced words spill from Vegeta, something that tested his control to not kill the spikey-haired Saiyan, the object of his ailing best friend's affection.

Goku gently maneuvered his son and mate to the side, looking back, offering his home to the prince in a silent invitation. Chi Chi looked up into her mate's eyes, fearfully wide, squeezing his hand in agitation.

'Goku, what are you doing? Why bring him inside? He'll see her!'

Goku gently squeezed her hand back, leaning down, kissing her forehead, her hair gently tickling his forearm as it spilled down her back 'I know. I want him to see her.'

"If you and your harpy are done arguing…" A gratingly annoying voice rudely interrupted them, effectively finishing their telepathic conversation.

"Why you little piece of…"

"Chi Chi!" His mate suddenly looked back, her forward movement towards the shorter man halted. Goku couldn't suppress the smirk that twisted the corner of his mouth, and hearing his son snicker behind him made him all the more tempted to let his mate continue on towards Vegeta…

But…there was a reason for inviting his resistant prince inside.

"Come now, Shin-ha…" Goku held out his hand, waiting for his mate, his wife to take it. The crackling fire and the warmth of her home tempered her flared temper, at least for now, stepping aside to allow Vegeta to enter her home.

Vegeta silently breathed in deeply all of the delicious smells still permeating the air in the modest home. The smell of roasted chicken, pork stew, fresh fish and shrimp and steamed vegetables lightly sautéed in butter welcoming him in.

'No wonder the fool is obsessed with food!' Vegeta absently thought, the roaring fire off to his right intensifying the cinnamon and mint candles flickering above the mantle.

He stopped just inside the foyer, his focus immediately drawn to the large cream sofa facing the fireplace. Her scent…he could smell her. He could hear her, the quiet breaths that she took, the only physical sign that she was still alive. His feet started to move on their own accord, in a trance, heading in her direction. So many mixed emotions swirling in him again, colliding as it coursed his whole being. What was she to him? Nothing! So, why did his whole being feel…incomplete, though she was rapidly drawing nearer to him? What the fuck did this mean! I DON'T have feelings for her! That's freakin' impossible!

"Vegeta." Goku was seated in the kitchen, patiently waiting for him, watching the Saiyan Prince heading in the direction of his want. Vegeta snapped out of it and turned his head, his scowl returning, firmly entrenched across his harsh but extremely handsome face. For a moment, he hesitated, not moving. 'Why the hell should I care? She means nothing to me! Nothing but a loud, arrogant, self-righteous, irritating woman who thinks she's the shit!'

…For all of his vehement denials…he knew he was fighting a losing battle. He was not believing his own words anymore, his feelings…his soul, betraying him as it was becoming more and more clear that she was important to him…

And…he had to make amends.

Vegeta sighed and turned towards the kitchen, inwardly cringing at the prospect of probing the taller warrior's mind in order to get to the bottom of things. The knot in his gut told him that what he was going to see…was not going to be pleasant. Regardless by morning, that weakling was going to be dead.

Vegeta's scowl drew deeper as he saw the anger and apprehension in Goku's eyes, in the light of the modest home, the scratches, the blood…all told him something had definitely happened between the third class and the prick.

"Tell me Kakkarot, is what I'll be seeing directly connected to your appearance?"

"…He got what he deserved, Vegeta. When you see what I saw…" Goku's eyes closed in pain, recalling again, Bulma's torture. Vegeta's eyes only narrowed.

"Let's get this over with."


	9. Unwanted Revelations

**Disclaimer: Yup, I don't own DBZ. **

**A/N: I think apologies will only be excuses, and although I am sorry for taking such a long time to update each and every one of my stories, in the end, it doesn't really matter. I have not abandoned any of my stories, I like them inasmuch as I hope everyone else does too. The updates may be infrequent, but it will occur, I can only ask for continuing patience if you do like them. I absolutely adore everyone who takes the time out to read my stories, and reviewing them are just an extra bonus for me. Thank you again for reading my stories, reviews are always welcomed!**

**Chapter 9: Unwanted Revelations**

"P…pl…please, Yamcha…"

"Quiet Bitch!" a loud crack echoed in the darkness, bouncing off the cavernous walls of the lab.

Bulma hit the wall hard, inches from the seam of the metal ceiling, the cold unyielding metal distantly making a sickening squeaky noise as she slid down the smooth surface.

She barely managed to squeeze out a gasp as she the cold cement floor, Yamcha's stranglehold had been suffocating, viciously holding her at arm's length as he punched and kicked her repeatedly, blows raining down on her as he accused her of having an affair with her temperamental and sour houseguest. Remembering the casual conversation he'd had with Gohan earlier that day that it had been Bulma who'd extended the invitation to the Saiyan Prince…something that didn't sit too well with the scarred warrior.

A set of feet advanced towards her, a small inaudible squeak barely discernable passing through swollen lips as them came closer. She knew who those belonged to. There wasn't anyone else in the vicinity, save for Vegeta, but his boots were white, a complete oxymoron of the man the prince embodied. But even given the brutal and horrific things he'd done over the years, the rapidly fading heiress on the ground knew Vegeta would never stoop beneath the level of humanity to attack, repeatedly attack a much less formidable creature. Death would come swiftly and humanely, suffering avoided if the prince could help it.

She was callously brought back to the present from an immense kick to her midsection, shooting jolts of pain all throughout her body. To say the wind was knocked out of her was laughable, for more than that flew out. Blood, spit, bile…they all accompanied a pained breath. She couldn't even move her arm to block Yamcha's blow, he'd already taken care of that, breaking it in three places on top of separating it from her shoulder. The shock of seeing bone fragments protruding through muscle and skin not something that fazed her much anymore. Unfortunately this was not the first time something like this had happened.

And she knew…it wouldn't be the last time either.

A part of her still loved him, enough to save his life, though that part of her was rapidly shrinking. She knew all she had to do was cry out, gather up enough strength to send out a distress signal and more than likely, the two most powerful beings in the universe would come rushing to her. To save her.

Well…one of them at least for sure.

"You're pathetic, you fucking little whore. That's what you are, Bulma. Nothing but a rich, spoiled brat that _invites_ a homicidal stranger to live in your home! The same bastard that killed me, you fucking bitch!" He kicked her again, Bulma hardly reacting, her sense so inundated and submerged in pain, new or existing not registering any differently to her pained body. "I'm on to you. I know the reason why you'd invite a prick like him to live with you. Because you are attracted to him, wanting to fuck that bastard and fuck him all the time, isn't that right, slut? What other reason could it have been, Bulma? Huh? What else?"

Yamcha stood there, looking contemptuously down on the pitiful heap at his feet, not a shred of pity in his eyes. Though it was the truth, he refused to believe Gohan's words, that she'd welcomed the lonely prince to stay with her only because there was no place for him to go. Chi Chi was definitely not going to help him. He couldn't stay indefinitely at Kami's lookout, and with his temper and daily food needs, no one else in the world could provide for (or stand) the powerful prince.

Yamcha snorted, spitting cruelly at the broken body of his girlfriend, a merciless smile playing upon his lips. He bent down closer, taking pleasure in the fear that he could see in her eyes. "I'll see you later, baby. Take care now." Yamcha laughed ruthlessly as he stood back up, turning on his heels as he sauntered lightly out of her lab. He knew she'd never say anything, most of all to Goku. If she didn't before, why would she now? Confidently, his footsteps retreated, opening the heavy metal doors, blasting her in a swirl of cold air. Darkness finally enveloped her as he disappeared into the bitterly cold night, unconsciousness claiming her as the doors slowly closed behind him.

She didn't know how long she'd been there, but the motion detector lights had already thrown her lab into darkness, only the quiet hum of her computers recognizable. A small remote control had fallen to the ground beside her, and though her whole body screamed out in pain, she knew she had to get moving. It seemed like an eternity passed before she was able to toe it to her, enough for pained and broken limbs to reach. Depressing a button, a bot suddenly whirred to life from a dark recess of her lab, heading towards its mistress causing the lights to turn back on.

It hummed there patiently, empty, circular unblinking orbs staring down at her, waiting for her command. Bulma could barely make out any features on the small bot, her vision skewed and blurred. With as much strength as she could muster, she held out her somewhat able free arm to the bot who promptly came forward to its mistress's side, hovering immovably as she slowly, slowly added more weight onto it, her body inching erectly, muscles and nerves screaming in agony at her. But she couldn't stop, not until she made it to the sanctuary of her room. There'd be no one to help her, her parents didn't know all that she'd been through with Yamcha, on top of that fact they were sailing around the world, unreachable for six months, at best.

Vegeta…Bulma grimaced and moaned in pain, a million knives stabbing her. Vegeta was not a man to be bothered. He would never hurt her…but he would never care about her either. Pity or mercy not in his vocabulary, only fighting, eating and being a royal pain in the ass. He would never attempt to help anyone, much less her, as he so often screamed at her on a daily basis, if not an hourly basis. But she understood, at least with him, she knew where she stood, no hidden agendas or fake niceties to contend with, along with his pride, intelligence, mental and physical toughness qualities in the man she appreciated and was attracted to.

What? Where the hell did that come from? Bulma gasped out in pain as the bitter cold of West City's winter slammed into her full force, whipping her stiff, sticky, blood-soaked strands all around her, the howling winds angrily hissing in her ear as it swirled around her. The bot hesitated slightly, slowing down even more to match her pace. She waded painfully through the rising snow, the cold, wet, dampness of the snow stinging and adding another dimension to the pain she was feeling. New fallen snow was always beautiful and picturesque, pure, white, virginal. Until it becomes defiled by dirt, grime or in Bulma's case, blood, turning the powder from opaque white to a cold, unnatural pinkish-reddish color.

The visible concrete just up ahead alerted that her ordeal was almost over, she felt like she'd been creeping through the cold winter all night long. Bulma didn't know what time it was, or even how much time had passed, but as she reached the awning just over the entryway into the familial compound, she was thankful that the Saiyans had decided to disappear to train elsewhere. The thought of what they would say…and suffering humiliation and shame from Vegeta…more than she was willing to deal with on this horrendous night.

Bulma stated shaking violently and threw up, managing to turn a bit in the nick of time to the side, at least saving herself and the bot from the steaming vile mess that spewed out from heavily traumatized organs. She didn't even bother wiping her mouth, her body crying out in pain and agony from the bitter elements and pain inflicted by her "boyfriend". She just needed to get in, maybe dying mercifully, peacefully, alone, something that seemed to rapidly become attractive…although one always sour, demanding, pompous Saiyan Prince would probably whine and complain, even after her coffin was laid in the ground that his belly was empty and his precious gravity room needed fixing.

She coughed wheezily as that thought brought a smile, Vegeta and his bottomless stomach and endless demands and empty threats somehow comforting her. The cold wooden floor of the kitchen told her that no one had yet to enter it, as did the coldness of the house, another welcoming indication that she indeed was alone. Bulma looked down at the small remote control still in her hand, depressing invisible buttons, automatically turning on a few lights in the home as well as the heat, warming the house and her immediately. A few more buttons and a couple of cleaning bots came out from hidden panels in the wall, mopping and cleaning after her, to remove all trace of blood, dirt and show that she trailed behind. The last thing that she needed was questions, as she looked up and saw one last great challenge before reaching the sanctuary of her bedroom.

The staircase.

"…Is he dead?" Burning, flaming eyes stared coldly into the young warrior's sad ones, again reliving her memories as Vegeta saw them for the first time. Goku looked away and closed his eyes as he sighed.

"Figures." Vegeta snorted disdainfully "You call her your sister, your family, and yet when you had the chance to give her some measure of justice you pussy out. You disgust me Kakkarot."

"I didn't kill him because I KNEW it should be left to you, you fucking prick!" Goku leapt to his feet, angrily indignant as he blew up at the shocked prince "after seeing what she went through…don't you want to be the one to avenge YOUR MATE?"

There were no words to describe the turmoil Vegeta was feeling. The anger, shame, denial…all unleashed by his incensed pride. 'How DARE this third class clown dare to utter such nonsense! She is NOT my mate! She's just…she's only…'

The silence was deafening as the speechless prince tried to digest all that's happened. Everything. The daily battles that he and Bulma had. The constant bickering, tests of wills that these two enormously egotistical individuals constantly spewed at each other. How he realized he often went out of his way to antagonize and needle her (and he suspected, that she in turn did as well).

How in the past few months, the tone and viciousness of their arguments had escalated, more biting…more hurtful, especially on his end. Deep down, he realized he was beginning to see…and admire this fragile, young woman's inner strength, her intelligence, cunning and prowess of penultimate feminine persuasion, and that it was beginning to get to him. Beginning to threaten him. Because he realized he was beginning to need the battles more and more.

He was beginning to need her more and more.

With a start, Vegeta realized another thing; Bulma had also begun to see the growing attraction between them. That's why…their battles, his callous comments, brought the immense hurt that he refused to acknowledge that clearly shone in her eyes. That's why…things had been more strained and tense between them.

He realized she had fallen in love with him…but more horrifically…she had bonded to him.

"…that's right Vegeta. She has bonded to you." Vegeta's eyes widened as Goku gave voice to the horror of the reality, his breathing hitching and stumbling, frantic gasps the only thing that came out as he shuddered uncontrollably.

"NO, dammit! That is not possible! She's not telepathic! She's not fucking Saiyan! I'm fucking disgusted by her! What makes you fucking think she's bonded to me?! It's not fucking possible! To even come close to that, I must feel something for her…and I can fucking tell you I fucking don't!"

"…really Vegeta? Are you seriously this dense that you refuse to acknowledge what's right in front of you?"

He stopped. Frozen as his biggest rival's words hit him. He was right. Part of the answer was right in front of him.

Chi Chi.

With a snarl, he turned to face the cold, hard gaze of his rival's mate. A test of silent wills began as they stared contemptuously at each other, neither willing to blink giving the other the victory. Eventually though, Vegeta grew tired and snorted, turning up his nose looking away, as Chi Chi smirked, snickering, pleased with this small victory.

"So what? Just because you found a crazy bitch to bond with, doesn't mean that all fucking humans can do it." Vegeta didn't let his surprise show as he heard Chi Chi growl indignantly behind him. Goku sighed, he knew it wasn't going to be easy to convince, but this was ridiculous.

His prince? Startled, he sat up rigidly, where the fuck had that come from? Yes, he respected the stature and awesome power of the powerful man before him, but never really considered him anything more than another Saiyan. A low rumble audibly erupted from deep within, again, startling Vegeta, thinking it was in response to Chi Chi's.

"You know what? I just realized I was wrong about the bonding. She's not. Forget what I said, Vegeta, sorry." Startled and…somewhat disappointed, Vegeta eyed Goku warily, something in him suddenly twisted, as if Goku's words…as if it angered him.

"…I don't fucking like games, Kakkarot." Vegeta snarled threateningly "As stupid as you are, nothing you've ever said has just been as you say it. There's usually a double entendre in all the shit that comes out of your mouth. After trying to fucking convince me that a fucking human is capable of bonding to me, you now say you're wrong." He leveled his cold gaze on the young warrior, getting angrier and angrier by the other's cool, calm demeanor "Why would you say that now? "

"…why did you protect her?"

Five words. One sentence. They both knew what Goku was talking about. Vegeta was rendered shocked and speechless. He could never explain to himself why he had…how much more to another person?

"…well? You must have had a reason, right Vegeta? I mean, she means nothing to you…what did you say about her? You're 'fucking disgusted by her'…so, why save her? Why didn't you let Yamcha smash her face into the wall? Why didn't you allow him to beat the living hell out of her like he'd apparently always done?"

"I…I…I needed her…to fix the gravity room."

Goku couldn't help but grin. It's a rare victory that anyone can cause the older Saiyan to sputter and grasp for words.

"Shut the fuck up, Kakkarot! I was coming in to let her know once again, her blasted machine was useless! And that she was completely incompetent! If her face was smashed in, if he'd broken her pathetically weak body, how the fuck would she have been able to even remotely attempt to fix that damned machine? Huh? Tell me!"

He was shaking, the rage and indignation coursing wildly in him causing fine tremors to run through the modest home. A couple of dishes crashed eliciting a pained yelp from the young woman standing behind him as she rushed to save the rest.

"Don't presume to pass judgment on me when you have no idea what the fuck you're talking about, you moron. The bitch is not bonded to me. I have no fucking feelings other than disgust for her!" Vegeta's eyes were blazing, the swirl of turmoil clearly visible in his eyes. "Humph. It looks as if that weakling finally did something that was beneficial."

"You fucking asshole! How DARE you say that!" Goku's aura exploded suddenly around him, his body beginning to pulse rapidly as his rage enveloped him suddenly. He was beginning to transform, the anger and despair of seeing one of the most important people in his life in so much pain brought more anger than he'd ever experienced before.

"No one fucking deserves what happened to her, least of all, HER you fucking prick!" Tinges of gold began angrily flashing all around him, as his anger alarmingly climbed higher and higher with each passing second. His own guilt and despair fueling the outrageousness of Vegeta's words "Why is it so hard for you to see? Why are you fighting the truth, Vegeta?"

"The truth? The truth? What would you know about the truth, huh, Kakkarot? You're nothing but an irritating thorn in my side, just as this bitch is! Don't stand there presuming to know ANYTHING about the truth! You wouldn't have a fucking clue what it was even if it kicked you in the face!"

"If I don't, then fucking TELL me, Vegeta! Tell me, what the fuck is the truth!"

"Dad! Vegeta! Stop, please! You'll kill us all!" Gohan was shielding his mother who stood behind him as he carefully cradled Bulma's limp body close to his chest. Goku turned to see the fear shadowing Chi Chi's eyes, as a pained moan slipped past Bulma's lips. He calmed immediately down and rushed over, gathering his mate to him gently, as he apologetically nodded to his son.

Vegeta stood frozen, everything around him blocked out, save for the failing glow of Bulma's life force. His blood was pounding forcefully through his veins, deafening to him as he stared at the woman in the young man's arms. What WAS she to him? Could…could she really mean more to him than he was willing to admit?

Was that the truth?

Her pained moan snapped what remained of his stubborn resolve. Bulma's ordeal, both from Yamcha and himself broke through the wall he kept his heart locked behind. Her pain…was seeping through every fiber of his soul, flooding him with so much anger and despair…

The truth…was in his shame. How could he have failed her?

How could he have failed his mate?


	10. 180

**Disclaimer: Yup, I don't own DBZ. **

**A/N: I think apologies will only be excuses, and although I am sorry for taking such a long time to update each and every one of my stories, in the end, it doesn't really matter. I have not abandoned any of my stories, I like them inasmuch as I hope everyone else does too. The updates may be infrequent, but it will occur, I can only ask for continuing patience if you do like them. I absolutely adore everyone who takes the time out to read my stories, and reviewing them are just an extra bonus for me. Thank you again for reading my stories, reviews are always welcomed!**

**Chapter 10: 180°**

No words were needed as he approached the young demi-Saiyan. She needed him. Goku and Chi Chi could see it in his eyes that the proud and powerful warrior had finally accepted what he'd been fighting for so long.

With each step he took, a memory of the young woman would flash, burning brighter than the sun. In the brief haze of consciousness the first time the gravity machine blew, she was there, the fear and concern that he mocked and fiercely ridiculed shining clearly in her eyes as she ran toward him as he fell…the fear of losing him terrifying her. His own confusion at waking up after pushing himself so hard he collapsed and she'd be there…how he'd suspected she wouldn't leave his side until he woke, no matter how rebellious and combative and unappreciative he was towards her. She was there.

"Gohan, it's alright son. You can let her go."

Goku smiled gently as he looked down at the concerned face of his son, who tightened his grip on the young woman in his arms as the Saiyan Prince growled quietly at the boy. Vegeta purposely strode towards them, intent on taking her away from a potential rival's arms (no matter how irrational his assumption was at the moment), but Gohan continued moving back, curling protectively around his friend as he bumped into his father and mother. After Vegeta's vehement denial and harsh words, he was definitely more worried for Bulma than ever before, and coming towards him with the intent of taking her away from him…well, needless to say, had Gohan on edge about the powerful man angrily coming towards him.

"…But, dad…he might…he might…"

" 'I might what?', half-breed? I am the LAST person on this blasted planet that would ever hurt her! How dare you..."

"How dare I what, Vegeta? She's in this condition BECAUSE you hurt her! How can you say you'd never hurt her?"

Vegeta stopped dead in his tracks, his throat drying up as he couldn't respond back with any sort of defense. The boy was right. His mate…_his mate,_ was in the arms of his rival's offspring because they were afraid of him for her…because of the immense pain he caused her. Because he violently denied the love she had for him. The pain etched on her face, radiating from her failing light destroyed the last vestiges of denial that clung desperately to him. He threw his head back and released a roar filled with anger he had for himself. Goku's home was tossed into turmoil as a large violent swirl of energy ripped through his humble abode.

"Vegeta, enough! Gohan has a right to be fearful, he's only being protective, something you should appreciate. We care about her."

"She won't need it any longer! I will not let my mate associate with such third-class buffoons such as you!"

"Well, all I have to say, is good luck to that, Vegeta. Knowing her the way we do," Goku chuckled, his mate and son grinning at the same time, infuriating the Saiyan Prince as furniture came crashing down "she will not allow anyone to tell her what she can and cannot do, who she can and cannot see. I'm surprised, living with her I would have expected you to know that by now."

"She has me now, the Prince of all Saiyans, the most powerful being as her mate, she will no longer need inferior people in her life!"

"As I remember, oh powerful one, my Goku beat your ass the first time you came here…"

"Shut your pie hole you fucking banshee! He got lucky!" ChiChi doubled over, draped across her strong husband's arms as she laughed. Goku knew to snicker outwardly would only cause trouble…Vegeta never will be able to let that go…so he stayed as stock still as he could, although his wife's body writhing in mirth in his arms was making it hard to do so.

"Chi….that's not a nice thing to say."

"Like I give a rat's ass, Goku! He doesn't deserve any sympathy from me, much less you!"

A startled yelp from Gohan snapped his parents from their conversation. Vegeta had taken the opportunity and removed the young heiress from the boy's arms, the speed and ease startling the young boy.

"Dad!"

"Gohan, it's ok, Vegeta won't hurt her, I promise."

The young family melted away from Vegeta's consciousness, only the woman in his arms had his attention. Her breathing was barely detectable, if it weren't for his superior senses, most would believe her to be dead. Her heart, struggling to keep her alive, was laboriously pumping, each labored thump thundering loudly in the Saiyan's ears. She felt cold, so cold as if she'd been buried in ice for a long time, her breath coming out in low, raspy, shivery gasps between unnaturally purple lips. He held her closer and raised his ki slowly, ignoring the slight discomfort it gave him. A bit of peace etched itself across her face, Bulma unconsciously relaxing from heat returning to her. But instead of curling into the warmth, the unconscious woman shrank imperceptibly away, a hushed whisper of pain leaving her lips, fearful of the warmth, as if she knew Vegeta had her in his arms.

He felt his heart break as he witnessed her unconscious reaction to him. The young family heard a most unfamiliar sound that had them in utter disbelief: the proud, stubborn, arrogant, angry, alien Prince dejectedly sigh.

Gohan was right. He had no one to blame for her reaction but him. His gross denial and abhorrent behavior towards her was the reason she lay dying in his arms. She had survived horrific torture and pain at the hands of a coward…but the pain of a broken heart, his violent rejection of her, his vehement denial of their bond…in horror, the young prince realized he may have destroyed the only good thing in his so far miserable existence.

He had to make amends. He had to get her back no matter what the demons of his past were shouting to him. No matter what his pride cried angrily against him. Fuck his pride. Happiness, a chance for true peace and happiness was in his arms. And he was damned if he was going to let her go, now that he finally realized his foley.

"Kakkorot. We need to bring her back."

"I know Vegeta. But how? I've tried to reach her… but I couldn't…she wouldn't allow me."

"I think that's the problem Goku."

Three sets of eyes turned to the dark-haired female in the powerful warrior's arms, confusion written plainly across their faces.

"YOU aren't able to reach her…because you're not the one she's in love with." The silence stretched uncomfortably as the weight of Chi Chi's words sank in. Gohan coughed nervously as Goku cleared his throat quietly. The thick chords of muscle visibly tightened and twisted, as they ran up the Saiyan Prince's stiff hair. Again, a quiet sigh whispered through the home as he kept his eyes fixed on the woman in his arms.

"She's right Kakkarot. Amazingly enough, your harpy had something useful come out of her pie hole."

"Asshole."

"Bitch."

"Enough! Both of you!" Two sets of icy daggers glared angrily at Goku "We're wasting time! The more time wasted the more she's slipping away! I'm not going to lose her!"

"Watch your tongue third-class! You have no claim on her she's fucking mine!" Vegeta growled threateningly, his hackles raised as he tightened his grip and hunched over possessively around the fragile woman. The enormous stress on everyone in the room, definitely on the inexperienced prince, making him think irrationally, giving voice to suspicions and fears.

"Knock it off, Vegeta! He doesn't mean it that way!" Chi Chi hissed angrily, as she stepped in front of Goku, to his surprise and alarm. Goku let out a low, inaudible rumble as he laid his hands on her quaking shoulders, pulling her back to him as her indignation and fury were physically apparent, letting the soothing vibration he was creating seep into her lithe frame. The unnerving thing was that he was also able to feel her fury coursing through their bond, washing angrily over him as she made her claim on him boisterously known. A jolt of shock ran through the young warrior as he realized how truly infuriated his mate was at Vegeta's accusation, but whether it was because of the insinuation or the thought of him with another woman other than herself he wasn't sure, and he knew he had to quell her fear now either way.

'Aishiteru, watashi no ai, my Chi…I am yours as you are mine. You will never have to worry. Watashi wa anata o aishite.' He squeezed her shoulders again, gently caressing the faint pin-pricks he had given to her so long ago until he saw his words sink into her, visibly calming her down. A few deep shaky breaths and being crushed to him finally did it, his mind in hers silently assuring her as he held her silently.

Vegeta stood silently as he watched. Unbeknownst to them, Vegeta had developed his telepathy far more than most Saiyans, so what Goku and Chi Chi were saying to each other he was able to hear. Satisfied that the younger man was not and will never be interested in his Bulma, he turned from them, bringing her to the sofa by the roaring fire.

He slowly sat down, sinking into the firm softness, cradling her delicately in his arms. She was fading and fading rapidly, her breaths more shallow and labored. Vegeta was becoming more alarmed as the minutes ticked away, just as she was.

He removed his gloves, his smooth soft fingers gently caressing the cold unconscious beauty, marveling at the delicacy of his fragile, perfect mate. He realized that no other woman in the universe could come close to her beauty, nevermind her ingeniousness, cunning, fierce loyalty and love for her family, her friends…for him, though he chastised himself for even thinking he deserved such devotion after what he's done. To be on the brink of losing her because of him caused the tormented prince to feel the one thing he had vowed never to feel: vulnerable. She had become his strength, his hope, his…future, easily breaking through his heavily fortified wall that surrounded and protected his broken and damaged soul. She had mended and repaired…and grown what was left of it, without any effort or strain, as if it was always meant for her to do so. When he finally realized what she'd done, what she'd become to him…how enormously important she was, he fought violently his feelings, he fought the truth, he fought her…until now.

She had become an integral part of his lonely existence. She unknowingly made it known to him how much she had needed him as well…and he unconsciously accepted and reciprocated it in return. She…had become his.

"You're coming back Bulma…you're coming back to me."


	11. Truth

**A/N: Hi everyone. As in CSI, I apologize profusely for the long wait. I also want to say that this probably won't be the norm either, if one is updated the others will too. Also, I understand the chapter of CSI was really short…but, I had a reason for it. That chapter hit me like a ton of bricks, and it made more sense to keep it short and creepy than drag it out with unnecessary crap. I'm also happy (and sad) to say that more than likely, this is next to the last chapter, or that there will only be a couple of more chapters left. Fair warning! Please r&r, and let me know how this goes, thanks!**

**Disclaimer: Standard stuff…nope, I don't own DBZ! **

**Ch. 11 – Truth**

"It won't be easy to bring her back, Vegeta, not after all that's happened." Vegeta sighed, looking back to see the young man steadily looking at him "…what will you do…if she doesn't want to come back?"

"…I don't know."

"Whatever you do Vegeta, she needs to know…things have changed." Vegeta didn't know what unnerved him more. That such sage advice came from an eleven year old child or that it was exactly what he was thinking as well. All he could do was snort, turning his attention back to the woman in his arms.

He reached up and gently brushed a few stray strands away from her forehead, his fingertips lingering, the light from the hearth sparkling and twinkling amongst the strands. Her icy skin was disturbing, telling him she didn't have much time as he placed his lips just above her brow. Her scent, burned into his mind, the most addicting perfume he'd ever smelled a scent that will never leave him. Even before acknowledging the bond he could always tell when she was close, and he realized now, he…grew to look forward to her scent, he always had.

"Bulma…I need you to come back. Please…come back and save me." He whispered softly, her scent filling his nostrils that he inhaled deeply.

Taking his fingers, he gently pried her eyes open, gasping as two empty beautiful eyes stared back up at him. The light that always blinded him, the wit & intelligence &…love that always shone in those blue depths were not looking back at him, not like before. They were completely devoid of any semblance of the woman he fell in love with. Nothing but an empty shell of the woman he was now bonded to.

The room again began to fall away, the fire, the people everything began melting. At a certain point, Vegeta was only aware of light and color, and that in itself was fading as blackness began to take hold as he delved deeper and deeper.

Vegeta gritted his teeth as reality, time and space began whizzing at a dizzying rate even for a Saiyan. Again her memories assaulted him, bombarding him with happy, adventure-filled, peril-infused, precocious childhood. Being the only child of an eccentric genius father and a dim-witted but beautiful mother bore a devastatingly ingenious, intelligent, but extremely beautiful, cunning but kind young girl who grew to be unmatched in beauty, ethereal other-worldly angel that tamed…and fully captured the raging untamable heart and mind of a powerful Prince. Vegeta could only acknowledge the power this frail Earthling held above him so effortlessly. Whether as the woman she grew to be now or the young girl that she had been, he knew it was inevitable that she would belong to him. No other woman in the universe would have ever done. No other woman would ever come close to fulfilling the horrendous need of his tattered and shredded soul.

There was no one who would ever complete him. Not even a Saipan woman.

Ahh…was that it? With a start, Vegeta felt himself flinch as this epiphany struck him. Is that why he resisted? Because unconsciously, resented the fact he was growing more and more attached to a weak Earthling? Even though he knew Kakkarot & himself were the only Saiyans, true, full – blooded Saiyans left in the universe. That realization always was in the back of his mind, every waking moment of every breath he took.

And the only Saiyans left were males. Period.

He realized horrifically he blamed _her_ for that. Not Frieza. Not the scarceness of his own damned race for producing females. He blamed her! Irrationally he lashed out at her, rejected her because he blamed her for never being able to mate with a Saiyan! To never take a Saiyan as a life mate!

'How fucking stupid have I been?'

…But…even if there were Saiyans left in the universe…would he still have taken a Saiyan? Or…is the other reason for his irrational attitude toward her because…he knew he would have still chosen the fragile female?

'Oh God.' With a deep sigh, he had to be true to himself. Given a choice…he would have still chosen her.

"Yamcha, please! I haven't done anything with Vege…" Vegeta felt his power crackling out of his fingertips as he witnessed another time Bulma was pummeled at the hands of her former lover. Again and again, every punch he felt her body scream out in agony. Every kick caused her delicate bones to break sickeningly, the sound reverberating all around him as he watched, powerless to stop this old brutality. Even as she passed out she was still being subjected to cruelty, that only strong powerful fighters should experience, not defenseless powerless beings…not his woman.

"Even after I send you to hell, asshole, you will never escape me."

He could feel his formless body quacking as the pained, pitiful mewing of the young woman he was in echoed all around him. How she endured such pain he could not imagine. The mental toughness to endure this degree of torture mimicked his own and the Saiyan Prince's cold heart cried out for her.

Abruptly the brutal scenes stopped. In fact, all of the memories good and bad chaotically jumbled together, whizzing sharply to his non-corporeal body, stopped. All of her flashing senses of pain, happiness, anger, fear…stopped. Vegeta was thrown into pitch black darkness again, silence enveloped him, suffocating as the time drew on.

"Vegeta, why are you here?"

And then she appeared. Like an angel, Bulma floated down, her hair cascading like a beautiful waterfall around her tiny frame. The normally flashing, highly animated eyes replaced by heavy, worry…hurt laden jewels that stung him, knowing that a large part of what he saw was because of him. Her lips were pale, the normally cherry colored flesh now almost blending into the unearthly paleness of her skin. Vegeta could see deep dark circles underneath her eyes, belying the faint puffiness around them.

But he still found her more beautiful than any woman he'd ever seen. As she touched down a few feet in front of him, he instinctively started towards her, much to her horror. Her eyes grew large, fear not shadowing her eyes, but pronounced and very apparent. He could smell her fear emanating strongly, her shoulders shaking as she tensed and backed up. Vegeta closed his eyes and sighed. No. He wasn't just a large part of this…he was the FULL reason for this.

"I've come to take you back Bulma." Vegeta couldn't believe how strong his voice sounded, strong but with an undertone of worry.

"No, I don't think so Vegeta." Bulma stepped back, retreating into the shadows "I'm better off here. I'm staying." He quickly reached out and grabbed her hand, startling her as she gasped.

"Bulma…please, you need to come back to the outside world. You're dying." It pained him to see the fear in her eyes as she wretched her hand away from him.

"So? Do you thing I care? Out there I have parents that are more interested in feeding their animals or taking trips for months at a time. Out there, I have 'friends' that hardly ever come by to visit and seem a bit annoyed if I go to visit them. Out there I was with a man who I thought was sweet and loved me…but beat the living shit out of me…as you and Goku now know." The startled look on Vegeta's face did nothing to remove the hurt from her eyes "Yeah Vegeta, I know you guys have been here, I know what you guys were trying to do. But you can save your precious strength my dear prince. I'm not leaving. There's nothing out there for me. In here…I'm safe."

"No you aren't!" Bulma flinched as she stepped back. Vegeta signed as he lost control, something he cursed himself for. "Bulma…I'm…sorry. But please, please come back with me."

For a long time they just stood there, their breaths the only thing audible. She didn't know what to make of this. Why would someone who basically said she was nothing more than dirt beneath his boots be asking now, no, _begging_ her to return to the outside world? He hated her, he had made that absolutely clear. Her feelings, her heart, it meant nothing to him.

"Being here will not make the pain go away Bulma. You'll only die. Right now…you're in my arms, dying and…" She could barely hear him, his voice so unsure of itself, wavering, something completely abnormal for the proud Saiyan Prince "and I don't wan't you to leave me, Woman."

Unexpectedly, Vegeta looked up at the sound of her laughter. Not of a full breadth of happiness, but one filled with sadness and pain.

"Oh, oh gosh Vegeta, for a minute there I could've sworn that sounded sincere, but of course who are we kidding, right?" Bulma kept grinning as she walked past him, sitting in another part of the darkness that was faintly illuminated. Her eyes looked off to the distance to nowhere in particular, glistening faintly.

"There's nothing for me out there, Vegeta. Nothing. So why should I go back to that? Why? To go back to work? Running a multi-billion dollar super successful company that practically runs itself? Or should I go back because you need me to work on the precious gravity machine? Although according to you, I fucking suck at creating a machine to surpass Goku, nevermind how apparently inept I am at fixing your toys? Oh, and let's not even talk about my cooking, right? So Vegeta, tell me, is that why you need me to return?"

"You have friends that love and care about you, Woman, A mother and father that seem flighty but I know love you very much. Don't you think they would miss you? Don't you think they would be devastated?"

"They'll be fine."

"No they won't Bulma! I won't be!"

"Please Vegeta, feigning concern is not your forte. You could give two shits about you, you said so yourself." Vegeta was turning red as the muscles in his neck constricted. He had said that. He had emphasized it. He thought he meant it too.

"You're right. I did say that. But it's because I didn't want to face the truth."

"And what truth is that, Vegeta? That you care about me? That you were wrong to break my heart, tear my soul to pieces? That you finally realize you're in love with me as much as I've been in love with you?"

"Yes." 

For a long time, they just stared at each other, neither one moving for fear of breaking whatever spell they were under. After what seemed like an eternity, Vegeta finally moved, slow, measured, careful steps. He knew he was running out of time, she was rapidly fading. Now that he finally accepted the bond that had grown between them without their knowledge and against their wills, he could feel her fading away. He was the reason this was happening and goddamit he was going to be the one to save her.

He knelt on his haunches in front of her, slowly inching forward as a set of mesmerizing blue seas fearfully looked on. She didn't know he could now hear her thoughts, feel the pain she was feeling that she was having a hard time keeping suppressed. No matter how much pain he had inflicted on her, how unbelievably cruel and horrible his words and actions have been, he could feel how much she truly loved him. More than anything else, he heard the despair of her soul at the thought of going back to a life without him reciprocating her desire, her need for him.

'Don't cry, you idiot. You'll only give him ammunition to hurt you more. This is a trick, just a trick to get you out.'

'That's not true, Bulma.' She cried out, stumbling as she scrambled to her feet. He caught her holding her gently but firmly, not letting go as she tried squirming away. She looked around wildly, where had that come from? Vegeta's lips didn't move, he was only staring at me…

'You're right, I didn't move my lips.'

A cry managed to escape as she looked into his face, whatever color she had left leaving her. Vegeta remained steadfast, stoic, but his eyes softened as she looked up to him.

'Ai shiteru Bulma. I love you. Please, please come back with me.'

'H – how are you talking to me this way Vegeta? How am I? This is impossible, I'm not, I'm not telepathic…'

'Come now. You're a genius. And you have a clown and a harpy that are mated together. You know they communicate like this. You know.' Vegeta took one hand and lightly tiptoed his fingers across her cheek, feeling the smooth skin of her 'You know they are bonded.'

"No! No Vegeta! You don't want me, remember? You said I was nothing but an irritating thorn in your side! You said…you said… I disgust you, Vegeta…you said…"

Bulma sank to her knees, unshed tears she had promised she would not shed in front of him trickling through her hands.

"You don't want me Vegeta, you've made that very clear. Please, please let me die. Please…please let me be at peace."

"If you die…I die. We're bonded Bulma. I belong to you just as you belong to me. Nothing, not even death can separate us now."

"That's not true Vegeta! Chi Chi was alive and well when Goku died!"

"But she was with child, Bulma. She had Gohan. She _had_ to find the strength to live. But are you sure she was alive? I bet if you were to ask her, I'm sure she'd say no." Vegeta gathered her into his arms, pulling her onto his lap. The depth of her fear and despair was more than he thought was possible. He could feel her heart in physical pain. The stress threatening to explode it. He had to get her out. Now.

"We're bonded, Bulma. I think we both knew that deep down inside. But I…I refused to see it because I didn't know how to handle it. I've never…never had anyone care about me before. NO one cared whether I lived or died. If I got hurt or embarrassed. No one's ever taken care of me without there being an ulterior motive. How the hell was I supposed to handle you, Bulma? You fucking took me in when I had nowhere to go…without any expectation of gratitude or payment! You fed me, clothed me (although I know now you were making fun of me by turning me into a damn flower), without ever blinking an eye! You've given me tools and equipment to become a Super Saiyan! All because…which I know now…you want me to be happy. No fucking person has ever cared Bulma…except you." Tilting her head up to him, he gently wiped the tears, kissing her softly, the memory of her forever burned into his being. "Please, please come back with me Bulma…I… need you. I don't want to live this fucking sorry life without you. I…I…love you Woman."

"…let's go home Vegeta. Let's go home."


End file.
